Oneshots: Childhood Friend
by KhaalidaNyx
Summary: Nire izena da. Etorri naiz. Look into a mirror and discover the answer. What you seek lies right in front of you. All you need to do is open your eyes and find the answer. Stop looking so hard and take a step back. Look and find. Ask and discover. You shall get what you wish in the end. Well, that is, as long as you live long enough to make that happen. (Ratings revealed)
1. Chapter 1

**Khaalida: My first chapter about Childhood Friend!**

**Aida: Her OC is in this one! **

**Khaalida: Oh, yeah... Um, this is about my OC. If you want to request one, you can**

**Aida: HAPPY** **EARLY EASTER!**

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**Όνειρα, πραγματικότητα, μνήμες {Dreams, Reality, Memories}**

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—estly. She _couldn't remember_ anymore.

Did it _really_ matter which way was up and which was down? Black is the same as white. Gray? There's gray here?

Things had started blending together for a while now. Colors turned dull, she missed things that were being said.

What did it matter, _really_?

Percy. _Percy_ depended on her. She was his sister, wasn't she? Wasn't she the one behind the scenes, pulling on little strings to make sure he never failed?

So why didn't anything make sense anymore?

Her first instinct was to always protect Percy. Her brother, her world, the one who saved her from those horrible monsters.

What did he think of having her as a sister? At first he was angry. Angry that Poseidon would have another child with a mortal. He shunned her, making excuses to leave because being around her was awkward. Because he couldn't believe that Poseidon cheated on his mother for hers.

Did she ask to have the sea god as a father? She didn't even remember her _mom_! Waking up five years ago in a morgue—having people tell you that you're supposed to be _dead_ is not what she had in mind! She was poked and prodded like a lab experiment was not her idea of a good time.

So she ran away.

She lived on the streets, stealing food and clothes, trying to keep alive. She prayed every day for someone to hear her.

He came like an angel from heaven. She was backed into a corner, four or five something's in front of her, hissing and cackling, rejoicing over the fact that they found a strong new scent. What? She had been so confused.

In a flurry of black and bronze he came, slicing through the monsters like warm butter. First to go was the giant black dog the size of a tank. It howled in agony as the blade pierced its side and exploded into golden powder. Then came the two snake women. They taunted him, calling him strange names—_sonoftheseagod_—and told him he would never win. He ignored them, running his dangerous sword through them before turning his attention to the vampire-like girls and killing them swiftly.

Then he turned to her with a crooked grin. "Hey, I'm Percy. I'm here to take you someplace safe, okay?"

She had hugged him. Thanked whatever deities there were that he was there to save her.

Then she was claimed at camp—_daughteroftheseagod_—and he was angry. Why did Poseidon cheat on his mom? Why couldn't he have a normal sibling? First the Cyclopes that ended up being his best friend and now the freaky girl that won't show her face. She would do _much_ better as a daughter of Hades.

Finally, after weeks, he tried to accept her. But no, she stayed in the shadows—_theywhispertome_—not socializing as much as the others.

They called her freak. Monster. Emo. Goth. Loser.

She just wanted to fit in. Was that so _hard_? Apparently. Even in the mortal world people treated her differently. All she wanted to do was fit in! Then suddenly she had an idea.

She made a mask. Two of them, actually. One of cool indifference and the other a smile. They covered the lower half of her face—the only part that was ever seen. No one would ever know. _How hard could it be, really?_

"Peyton." A hand waved in front of her face, snapping her from her thoughts.

"Yeah?" she asked. Her mask was back up. The smile this time; after all, this was Percy.

"I was asking if you could help me scour the left side of the city. I don't know if there is any leftover monsters."

Ah, of course. She had been fighting all day, protecting campers, but she would do this for Percy. She would do anything for him.

Standing up mockingly, she posed, putting her thumbs in the straps of her armor and leaving her hand and other fingers to hang out. "How do I look?"

He laughed and she mentally congratulated herself for making him smile. He didn't smile a lot these days.

"Why you look—"

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"—simply stunning," Paris complemented.

The beautiful girl giggled, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Why thank you, Paris."

Smiling, he walked foreword and grabbed her hand gently in his. "I mean it. You're beautiful, Helen. You could pass for Aphrodite herself."

Smiling, she playfully pushed on his chest which was covered in armor. "Oh, hush. You know that's not true. And you shouldn't say such things about the gods."

Paris let go of her hand, smiling cheekily. "I can't believe you convinced Zeus that you're his daughter."

The girl shrugged nonchalantly, her perfect curls bobbing up and down with the movement. "It wasn't that hard. Even the gods can be affected by the mist."

Paris nodded, his eyebrows drawn together in a sign of thinking. "Hey, are you—"

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"—listening to me?"

Her head snapped to the side, now fully aware Percy was talking again. They were outside now, somewhere near Central Park.

_How did they get there?_

She gave him a sheepish smile, once again thankful for the hood that hid all of her features with the exception of her lips and chin. "No, sorry. I kind of spaced out."

Percy gave her a mock-glare, trying to lighten the mood, but she could see the worry in his eyes.

No, no. That wouldn't do. Percy couldn't worry for her. All she had to do was pretend—_trickstricksliesarecommon_—to be okay.

"I was just thinking about what to eat when all this is over," she said lightly, smiling in what she hoped was a dreamy way. "Maybe your mom can make some more blue food . . ."

Percy laughed, his sea green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Do you ever think about anything other than food?"

She pretended to think, one finger tapping her chin in contemplation before shrugging. "Not really."

He laughed and she poked his chest in mock-anger.

"Don't laugh at me, mister!" She set her slim, pale hands on her small hips. "Food is important! What do you think about?" A sly look came onto her visible features, but it didn't reach her eyes. Not that he could tell, of course. Her features were carefully concealed under a thick hood and baseball cap. The mist helped too. "What about Annabeth?"

He suddenly stopped laughing, bright color creeping onto his cheeks. He sputtered excuses and she cut him off with a laugh.

"I'm just _kidding_, Percy," she said, starting to walk away casually. She headed back the way they came. "Sort of."

"Peyton!" Percy whined, jogging to catch up to her. "You're _so mean_ to me!"

She gave him a cheeky grin in response, her rose colored lips tugging upwards in amusement—_thatdidn'treachhereyes_—in response to his statement. "Want to have a race?"

Ah, changing the subject to keep him happy. To keep everyone happy. To keep a pretend smile on her face—_can'tyouseemymaskiscracking?_—and keep him light and carefree.

"After we just had a battle?" he asked in disbelief, his eyes wide and mouth dropped open in shock.

"Of course!" she chirped in response, a happy smile—_ithurtssomuchcan'tItakeitoffnow?_—on her face.

Percy's sea green eyes lit up in amusement, a small smile dancing on his lips. "Okay, do you want to count or should I?"

"You do it," she said, getting in a ready position.

"Okay," he responded, smiling brightly now. "Ready? One, two, three—"

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"—go!"

The roar of the crowd was deafening. People were jumping up and down in excitement in the rows of the Coliseum, trying to get a better look at the match below.

She narrowed her ethereal eyes behind the visor of the helmet. Her opponent was almost a hundred feet away, his bulky frame poised in a ready position to fight.

She wanted this match to be over. The bandages around her chest were starting to hurt. It was hard pretending to be a man, but it was necessary. She couldn't even begin to wonder what the senate would do if they found out a woman was trying to be a soldier. She'd be killed, her remaining family outcasted, their future generations shunned.

But she had _wanted_ to fight. She wanted to make something of herself instead of sitting at home, being a delicate house wife. She wanted to finish what her brother wanted. So Atalanta was now dead and Pelus was reborn again. The records show that she had taken her brother's place at the raid on the edges of the city and died.

She was only sixteen, she couldn't do this forever. She heard that Lady Artemis and her huntresses were passing through town in a few weeks. Maybe she could join? She was still a maiden, the Lady was sure to accept her.

She dodged and ducked her opponents spear as she thought. A new life. That sounded too tempting to turn down. She could start over as Atalanta again.

There! She thrusted her sword foreword, piercing through the man's tender flesh and through other organs she didn't care to identify. She saw the shock come onto her opponents, face as he dropped to the ground.

Just another faceless person.

"And the winner, again, is—"

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"—Peyton Shahar!" Annabeth stomped up to her, battle armor on and her prized dagger strapped to her hip.

"Yes?" she asked curiously. Did they finish the race? She didn't know. Well, she supposed it didn't _matter_ anymore, anyhow. As long as Percy was happy. Who _cares_ if she turned red to blue or fire to water in order to do that?

"Have you seen Percy?" the pretty blonde demanded. Her curly hair was tucked tightly into a messy ponytail on her head.

The hooded girl's lips curved into a delicate frown—_I'msoscaredwhat'shappeningtome?_—as she thought. "Actually, I—"

"Never mind," the daughter of Athena cut her off, her intelligent gray eyes honed in on a figure behind her. "I see him." She started jogging over to the black haired teen and turned around once to call, "Sorry for bugging you, Peyton!"

The tired teen sighed—_Ihearstrangevoicescalling_—and made her way over to the lumpy couch in the lobby of the stunning and big hotel.

She sat down, putting her head in her hands and her knees on her elbows. What was _happening_ to her? She was hearing strange voices all the time, spacing out, and remembering things that didn't exist.

Her stomach rumbled in complaint, reminding her that she was still—

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—starving. Did all they have to eat was bread and rice? What happened to the extravagant feasts that they had had not two weeks ago?

"When will we get better food, Papa?" the seven year old asked, poking her stale bread with her index finger.

The king frowned, eyeing his adopted daughter with a sorrowful expression. "I'm sorry, Berengaria. Our kingdom is going through a famine as of late."

"Fa-mine?" She sounded out the word and tilted her head to the side in an innocent way, her long curls that weren't pinned up sliding to the side.

The king smiled at his daughter's nativity. "Yes, sweetheart. Navarre is going through a time where there is not enough food and water to feed everyone. We've run out."

A small frown tugged at the girl's lips and her face scrunched together in contemplation. "_Oh_. Is _that_ why mommy is sick?"

The king's eyes dimmed slightly as he thought of his sick wife. Her skin was splotched and dry, her once pretty features tainted. She had been born unable to birth children, so the Holy Men thought of her cursed and sought to purify her. The king and his people had refused because of their love for the Queen and simply adopted a stray child who was left abandoned on the streets. The queen's caring nature would not be dimmed and they took the girl in, raising her to be a fine princess. Several years later the queen accumulated a skin disease and was slowly dying in her bed.

"No," the king said sadly. "She has—"

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"—something else, aren't you?"

The girl blinked, eyeing the person in front of her. Silena. Silena Beauregard.

Silena was okay. She never made fun of Peyton for not showing her face, and never pushed her to show her face. She was sweet and kind, especially for a daughter of Aphrodite.

A small smile came onto the daughter of the sea's face—_atruegenuinesmile_—as she greeted her somewhat-friend.

"What's up, Silena?" she chirped—_falseyou'reafake_—happily.

Shrugging, the daughter of Aphrodite sat next to the daughter of Poseidon on the couch and leaned back, attempting to get comfortable. "I just wanted to check of you're okay. You seem to be spacing out a lot lately and I'm worried about you."

"Oh," the younger girl said. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just have a lot on my mind lately."

The pretty daughter of the love goddess nodded. "The war is hard on everyone."

"Yeah," the younger girl agreed—_amIgoinginsane?_—, thinking about the flashbacks she had been having lately.

Silena put a caring hand on the hooded girl's shoulder. "Get some rest, okay? So that way you'll be nice and ready to—"

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"—beat me!" Sahr giggled as she ran around the temple. Her white dress was slit on the sides like her friend's only hers were only slitted to the thigh while the curly haired girl's were slitted to the waist. Sahr had a red sash around her waist, but her friend had a blue one that trailed down in the front, gold armbands around her biceps that were the shape of snakes, golden anklets and sandals, a lot of thin golden bracelets, a thick golden necklace with a blue diamond in the middle, and a golden headdress. Of course, as the next leader of Egypt, she was required to wear such extravagant things.

Cleopatra smiled happily, enjoying this time when she could be herself in front of her friend. "Unkusse said that I am free to do as I wish for the rest of the day, instead of just when Ra is above our heads."

Sahr clapped her hands together gleefully, a smile gracing her face. "That is wonderful, Miss Cleopatra! What activity do you wish to partake in?"

The beautiful long haired girl knew the answer right away. "Why do we not ride the horses? May you prepare the chariot?"

Her friend bowed to her with a aura that radiated happiness. "Of course, my lady! It is always an honor to serve you!"

Cleopatra watched Sahr go with a fond smile on her rosy lips. It was so hard to find good company nowadays and she was lucky to have found a friend in the petite blonde.

She didn't have long left and she knew it. The prophecy from the gods said that—

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"—are terrible!"

The mask of cool indifference slid onto her face—_freakmonsterthatswhatyouare_—as she looked up at who had addressed her. Drew.

Drew was a pretty Asian girl of Aphrodite that thought she was better than everyone else. She also had a thing for Percy but the handsome son of the sea god did not return her feelings.

"What?" she deadpanned—_can'tshowyourtrueselfinfrontofyo urfriends?_—, burying all her emotions under the mask she wore.

Drew scrunched her nose in distaste. "You're awful. You smell like a sewer and always wear crap. Why don't you show your face? Too scared to show the world how _ugly_ you _really_ are?"

Said hooded girl tried to ignore the annoying daughter of Aphrodite—_shedidn'tmeanitshedidn'tmeanit_—, convinced that the girl was simply stressed in the time of war and needed someone to take her anger out onto.

"Well?" Drew demanded, a hand on her hip and the other posed fashionably at her side.

"Do you know where Percy is?" the girl asked instead.

Drew frowned, upset about not warranting the reaction she wanted from the girl she considered a threat and huffed. "No."

Shrugging nonchalantly, the teen turned away to look for her brother.

On one of the rare moments of peace, she thought about the future. What awaited her out in the big bad world _after_ the war was over? Who was she kidding? There was no future for her. The three Fates _themselves_ said that no matter _what_ she wished, things would not turn out that way. _So what_ if maybe she wanted friends and people to _acknowledge_ her for who she _was_? So what if she wanted a _family_ and _someone_ to hold her while she cried?

Deep in her heart she knew she would never get that but she couldn't help but wish she could—

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"—try one of your machines out, Daedalus?" she asked, her eyes aglow with wonder as she ran her pale fingers over the machine on the table.

The inventor smiled at the young pre-teen that was marveling at his work. "I think not. It would not be wise to use it before I make sure it will not fail. Why don't you go play with Icarus for a while?"

A frown curved onto the girl's lips. "But I wish to work with you! Icarus wants nothing but to work by himself and be a great inventor—I simply wish to be like you!"

Chuckling, the inventor brought out more tools to work with and set them next to his grand machine. "Maybe one day, little one."

The girl's eyes were so filled with curiosity she didn't even scold the inventor like she usually did about calling her little. "What are you making, sir?"

A smile curved onto the brilliant son of Athena's face. "A maze."

"A maze?" the young girl echoed in wonder. "How big do you plan to make it?"

Chuckling at the small girl's enthusiasm, he ruffled her curly dark locks of hair. "Huge, Phaedra. Maybe someday it will be bigger than Greece itself."

"Wow," the small girl mouthed in wonder before regaining herself. "Do you think one day I can be as great as you and have people name their children after me?"

"What makes you think people will name their children after me?" Daedalus asked in amusement.

"Oh, I know they will, sir," the girl said in certainty. "You are too smart for them to not." She clasped her hands in excitement. "Maybe if I become a lady in waiting for the king I will become noticed and someone can name their child after me."

"Maybe," the inventor smiled in agreement. "But before you do that you'll have to—"

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—take the mask off and be herself.

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**A/N: Tell me what you think? Please? If you have any questions or want to request something feel free to PM me or leave it in a review. **

**Προειδοποίηση: Flames will be laughed at or used to make s'mores! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Khaalida: YAY! Another chapter!**

**Aida: *straight face* This was requested by IShipElectricChairs. *laughs* Oh, gods! I love that name!**

**Khaalida: So this is about a girl named Lynzee from the Demeter cabin. I changed her age to sixteen. If you want to learn more just look at the first review of two. *flips the audience the bird***

**Aida: *tackles Khaalida* So sorry about that! She can get kind of violent sometimes. Anyways, thanks to IShipElectricChairs for the review! We also love TailsDoll13 and we'll do your OC on the next chapter! So hold on tight and tell us what you think of this one! *winks* **

**Khaalida: *groans* My head... Oh. And to people who don't know, Aida is my muse. A very annoying muse, but a muse nonetheless. **

**Aida: REVIEW~!**

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**Οικογένεια και τον πόλεμο {Family and War}**

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Lynzee kept her face stony as she watched the oncoming army approach. She was worried. Worried for her brothers and sisters, as well as the other campers.

She was ready to protect her family.

Her chocolate brown hair that went two inches above her shoulder blades was tied back into a tight, short ponytail. She wore her best pair of comfortable jean shorts that would be easy to move around in and a soft green t-shirt adorned her torso. A bronze breastplate went over her shirt, complementing her caramel colored skin. She wore steel-toed bronze ankle boots on her feet that were magically enchanted to stay light and a bronze helmet with a blue plume rested on her head like a crown.

"Attack!" she heard Katie Gardener—_anothersiblingIneedtoprotect _—yell.

Immediately plants broke through the sidewalk at a disturbing rate and wrapped themselves around the enemies legs, causing them to stumble of fall and were immediately assaulted with arrows.

But the plants didn't stop there. Every available child of Demeter—_spawnsofthegoddessofagricult ure_—made plants rise from the ground and twist around anything they could get ahold of in the enemy lines.

To anyone else it would look like a jumble of weeds tugging at monsters but to Lynzee it looked like a complicated dance. All the hues of greens were _beautiful—whymusteverythingbetainted?_—before they were stained with red—_slowlydripsdownthevines_—of fallen enemies.

With a start, she realized they were getting too close. They should not be _that close_.

She removed her beautiful brown bow from her back—_ImustprotectImustprotect_—and carefully notched an arrow, ready to fire.

_Thud_! The arrow embedded itself into a betrayer demigod's neck, causing him to fall to the ground, dead. She winced as his blood stained the road—_greenissomuchbetterthanredle sspain_—but didn't stop in her firing. This was for her siblings—_familyalwayscomesfirst_—, her family.

_Thud!_ Another demigod down. _Thud! Thud! Thud!_ Monsters disintegrated into golden powder, showering the people and things behind them in their sand-like substance.

_This is for my family!_ she thought fiercely, firing another arrow. Bull's eye.

Lynzee was good with a bow—_areyousureyouaren'taspawnofApollo?_—and rarely ever missed.

Within minutes the ground was stained crimson. Some of it was from her fallen siblings—_NO!_—or from the fallen enemy they faced.

She had never liked crimson. Green went _much_ better with everything. Green was a color you could use in any season. Winter—_jinglebellsjinglebellsjingle alltheway_—, spring—_hopeishere_—, summer—_atimeofplay_—, and, well, okay, _not_ fall. But people _always_ want green in fall anyways.

_Happy thoughts,_ she chided herself. _Don't focus on the red. It's a game, a game like you always play with—_

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"—me!" Amber, another child of Demeter begged shyly. She was only eight years old and was still having a hard time getting a handle on her powers and was terrified of weapons. Her father and step mother had been abusive so any type of violence frightened her. If the Demeter kids in the cabin argued, she would run away to the strawberry fields in tears. Needless to say, she helped keep peace in the cabin.

Lynzee blinked. Once. Twice. "What?"

Amber set her jaw and fixed the tall brunet with a firm look in her green eyes. "I want you to teach me how to use a bow."

"Like the _weapon_?" Lynzee asked, her brain not registering what was being asked of her.

Amber giggled softly and nodded her head.

"But—why—?" the brown haired teen sputtered.

Amber looked down sadly and clenched her fists at her sides. "I know there's a war coming. Everybody talks about it. People are scared. When people have to fight, I want to help."

Biting her bottom lip in uncertainty, Lynzee kneeled down in front of the younger girl and laid her tanned hands on her small shoulders, pushing down the spike of anger that erupted inside of her when she flinched slightly. "Do you really want to help?"

Looking up, leaf green met earth brown and an understanding went through them. "Yes."

Nodding in resign, the older girl looked at the younger with sadness and pride. "Okay. I'll teach you to shoot but it will be tough work. You're hands and arms will hurt and you might not be able to even hit the target the first few times. Are you _sure_ you want to do this?"

At the small child's determined nod, a grin stretched across Lynzee's face.

"Okay then, how about I teach you a _different_ way?"

Amber cocked her head to the side, her light brown hair that was pulled into a ponytail swinging with the motion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean how about we make it a game?"

Amber's eyes glittered with curiosity and excitement. "Okay!"

Laughing lightly, the older girl stood up and grabbed the younger one's hand. "It'll be awesome. I'll make it fun just for—"

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"—you, little demigod?"

Lynzee pulled her bow back to fire at the massive monster in front of her but it raised a meaty fist and swatted her in the side, sending her flying into a tree which she hit with a sickening _crack! _White hot pain flared through her left arm and ribcage and she knew right away that the bones were broken, if not shattered.

As the hulking monster drew nearer, she could tell it was the end for her. Would she make it to Esylum or would she be stuck in the fields of Asphodel because she failed at protecting her siblings to the very end?

The ground shook with explosions and the pained cries of both demigod and monster filled the air.

The monster was right in front of her now. She didn't look up but she could see his massive feet and legs. To be honest, it kind of reminded her of—

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"—ducks!"

"No way," she shook her head in denial and exasperation. "How can that—" she motioned to the object of the argument "—remind you of ducks?"

The older boy huffed and looked back up at the sky, laughter in his eyes. "You have no imagination."

The girl's mouth dropped open in shock. "No imagination?" Her eyes slid over to the white puffy clouds that were slowly drifting across the vast blue sky, looking like a beautiful painting of something from a storybook. "Tell me how that cloud looks like a group of ducklings."

If anything, the cloud they were looking at looked like a vine elegantly twisting its way across the blue atmosphere, stretching as far as it could reach.

The boy lifted his tanned hands, making his fingers into L shapes with four of his fingers straight together and thumbs out, turned his right hand so that his palm was facing him, and made some sort of picture-like shape with his fingers as he looked at Zeus' domain. "Like," he began, drawing out the 'I' in the word, "the tail is right . . . There! What else? Oh! The feet are sort of crooked, so you kind of have to look sideways like—there!" he finished, looking extremely proud of himself.

"Sure, Connor," she decided to humor the fourteen year old boy beside her.

"Lynz?" he said, his voice awfully soft.

Said girl's eyes were shut gently, protecting her eyes from Apollo's chariot's rays. "Yeah?"

When no response came, she was confused as well as a little upset. _Why was he ignoring her? _"Connor—"

Her words were cut off as another pair of lips defended onto hers. Her eyes snapped open in shock, showing off her warm eyes that were filled with shock. She couldn't move. She was frozen. All she could think about were the lips against her own.

"Sorry," Conner said as he pulled back and sat up straight so that he wasn't leaning over her anymore. He pulled his arm away from above her head and looked away sadly and embarrassed. "I shouldn't have done that. I mean, I probably just _completely_ ruined our friendship because of that so I'm—"

The son of Hermes was cut off as a warm body slammed into him, making him fall onto his back in the soft green grass by the strawberry fields.

"Connor?" Lynzee said from her perch on his stomach. Their faces were inches apart.

"Yeah?" he said, slightly breathless.

"You talk too much."

And with that her lips crashed back onto his.

A squeal had them jumping apart like they'd been burned. When they turned to look at the source of the noise, they were met with an over-excited Katie holding a digital camera and a grinning Travis.

"Oh _shi_—"

"We got pictures~!" Katie practically sang, cutting her half-sister off.

"Katie!" Lynzee shrieked, her face bright red.

Her sister's response was cackling rather evilly and running towards their cabin.

"Come here, traitor!" She took off after the fast daughter of Demeter.

"Not gonna happen~!" Katie said joyfully. "You'll have to bow to—"

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"—Peyton Shahar, daughter of Poseidon, god of the sea, bringer of storms, father of horses."

Lynzee got on her knees, but was as shocked as everyone else, judging by their faces. As soon as this—this _freak_ passed the border, a green trident went above her head as a beacon to all.

The weird girl clutched Percy's arm tightly, obviously frightened. Said on of the sea god on the other hand looked as if he didn't know whether to be excited, disgusted, or worried. After a mini-debate with his facial expressions, he went with neutral.

Whispers broke out immediately.

Another child of the sea? What could this mean for the prophecy?

Kids eyed the new girl distrustfully or in disgust at what she was wearing. Ratty jeans that looked like they hadn't been washed in weeks, an old black hoodie that was about four sized too big for her and had the sleeves rolled up to her pale wrists and the hood pulled up over a ratty baseball cap, hiding everything but her pale chin and rosy lips. Even with just that showing, you could tell she was beautiful. The soft curve of her jaw, the fullness of her lips, the pale creaminess of her skin.

Lynzee didn't like her _at all_.

It _might_ have had something to do with the way Connor was looking at her like he figured out there was also more than meets the eye to this girl but that wasn't all.

Who wears a _sweatshirt_ on an _eighty five degree day_? Why isn't she showing her face? Whatever it was, Lynzee vowed she would never let that girl—

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"—sit here?"

The children of Demeter looked up at who had spoken before hushed whispers broke out among the table.

It was the Freak. Pamela? Paisley? Paula? No Peyton. That's right.

The common topic at camp right now was the new daughter of the sea. Topics such as "How can this freak be related to Percy?" and "Maybe Poseidon claimed the wrong kid and she's really a daughter of Hades or some minor god or goddess?"

"I—I would sit at my table," she said softly, "but I'm worried about Percy."

The handsome son of the sea god had gone on a little quest to snatch two powerful demigods from a school with the help of Thalia, daughter of Zeus, and Annabeth, daughter of Athena.

"The Hermes cabin is full," she practically whispered.

The Demeter kids looked at the Hermes table and indeed it was overflowing with kids like any other day.

"The Athena kids don't like me because of my father."

Understandable. Poseidon and Athena had a long-term rivalry going on.

"Dionysus doesn't like anyone but his own kids."

True that. He called Peyton Paisley all the time, confusing everyone. For Lynzee he called her Lily.

"Persephone and Aphrodite don't like me either—except for Silena but I don't want to cause her trouble."

Persephone's kids were bright and happy, hanging out with Peyton dragged them down. She also broke almost everything she touched and killed a lot of flowers. Aphrodite hated her fashion sense but Silena was kind to everyone.

"Zeus and my father don't exactly get along, Hephaestus kids ignore me, Artemis would turn me into something furry, no one sits at the Hera table, the Ares kids like picking on me, and the Apollo cabin actually sent me over here."

Lynzee mentally cursed the Apollo cabin in every language she knew. Why would the send the _freak_ over here?

Out of the corner of her eye, Lynzee could see campers giggling and pointing to them, laughing at their misfortune of being stuck with the dark girl.

Anger boiled through Lynzee. Did they think they could just drop this _trash_ on them and _laugh_ while they dealt with it? "No."

Lynzee couldn't see her face but she was sure she was blinking in shock. "Um, what?"

"She said no, Freak!" Angela, another daughter of Demeter sneered. "Go back to your table! You aren't suppose to sit at different ones during meals anyway!"

The hooded girl took her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded in understanding before gliding back to the Poseidon table.

Laurence, another one of Lynzee's half-siblings, laughed, starting a laugh infection to go through the tables. Everyone laughing at the misfortune of the strange girl.

"What a _freak_!" Poppy gasped. "I mean, she's so—"

.

.

—annoying. Everywhere she went, the stupid daughter of Poseidon was there. After the night where everyone laughed at her, Lynzee felt a small seed of guilt in the pit of her stomach, but buried the feeling when she saw that the next day the girl was smiling. She laughed, too. Many campers suddenly changed their opinion about the girl and the boys said that she had a laugh of angels.

She had laughed because Percy came home safely but Lynzee couldn't see that. What she saw was a nobody working her way up the social latter and stealing the attention of the boy she loved.

In five short days the younger girl managed to change most of the camp's opinion about her. She smiled a lot, pulling her rosy lips into an attractive angle and showing off her perfect straight white teeth. Her laugh, no matter how much Lynzee wanted to deny it, was very pretty.

"Stupid, no good, freaky daughter of Poseidon," she mumbled under her breath as she walked past the cabins and towards the beach. Connor was sure to be there since he enjoyed playing in the cool water with the hot sun beating down. Connor could always cheer her up and bring a smile to her face.

She walked down the beach, having taken her sandals off long ago. The soft sand sunk between her toes and warmed her feet up quickly. A giddy feeling engulfed her and she ran clumsily down the stretch of sand, kicking up the tiny grains behind her. Only to freeze on the spot.

Standing not twenty feet away was Connor.

And _Peyton_.

Her unofficial boyfriend, the son of Hermes, had his arms linked protectively around the freak's waist and she had her hands fisted in his shirt and her face buried in his chest.

She couldn't think.

Red tinted her vision and the next thing she knew, Connor was lying in the sand, crimson pouring from a deep lash on his calf and the daughter of Poseidon was spread at an awkward angle on her stomach and trying to push herself up. The ground was slowly but surely turning red beneath her. A giant vine lay on its side in the sand, it's poisonous thorns stained red.

_She had always liked green better._

"Connor!" she shrieked in horror, running to her fallen love.

He looked up at her with wide eyes. "Did you do this?"

Lynzee frantically knelt beside him and tucked some of her chocolate brown hair behind her ear. "Well, yes, but—"

"Why?" he demanded.

She turned her brown eyes to him in shock. His normally kind blue eyes were like chips of ice. "I saw you cheating on me with—with that _freak_ and—"

"Cheating on you?" he repeated harshly. He gave a humorless laugh. "I was comforting someone who was like my little sister."

Lynzee's eyes were coated with denial. _Comforting? _Why would the little _freak _need _comforting_? She had been _smiling_ and _laughing_ _all week_. No one could fake that.

_Right?_

"Leave," Connor said, his voice stony.

Lynzee sputtered protests but the son of Hermes ignored her and picked the fallen girl up bridal style, revealing a gash along her stomach.

"You've changed, Lynzee. Whatever we had changed too. You've done enough damage, so leave."

Connor turned and left, leaving a shocked daughter of Demeter behind.

She couldn't believe this! How could he—

.

.

"—hurt my sister!" Percy snarled at the pretty daughter of Demeter from outside the infirmary.

Lynzee set her jaw. "It was her fault. If she hadn't been—"

"Crying into Connor's shirt?"

"They were—"

"Having a brother-sister moment! You let your jealousy cloud your judgement and now my sister is in the infirmary!"

"What do you care?" she snapped back. "She hugged you when you came here with Nico and Bianca but you didn't start talking to her until two days ago!"

"I was confused!" Percy snapped back, shocking her. "Don't start pushing this onto me! I'm not the one who almost killed a little girl!"

"First of all," she snarled, "she's not a little girl. Secondly, I didn't 'almost kill' her!"

Percy's eyes were the hardest she had ever seen them and it scared her. "She just turned twelve years old two months ago! So, yeah, she is little! As for your last excuse, she lived on the streets for her whole life and is malnourished! When you pulled your little plant stunt, it cut down to her ribcage!"

Lynzee stared at the normally calm son of Poseidon in shock. She _hadn't known_. She—she had thought that—that—

"How is she?" A certain blonde daughter of Athena asked softly, looking at Percy.

His eyes immediately softened when they landed on the blonde beauty. "She'll be fine but she's bedridden for at least a week."

The smart girl nodded in understanding before her sharp gray eyes landed on Lynzee. "I hope you apologize."

Lynzee opened her mouth but no sound came out. The daughter of Athena was right.

The door to the infirmary creaked open softly and a hooded pre-teen stood there barefoot with her hood just off a few inches under her chest and red-stained bandages wrapped tightly around her stomach.

"Percy?" she asked softly.

Percy's expression went soft and comforting in an instant. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," she said, smiling to show her healthiness.

"Someone has something to say to you," Percy said, shooting a look at the ashamed daughter of Demeter.

"Um, Peyton? Listen, I—"

"It's fine," Peyton cut her off.

Lynzee blinked, not understanding what the girl was saying.

"I didn't get hurt too bad, so it's alright," she continued to elaborate. "You were just angry. I get it, it's okay."

"Why would you—"

.

.

"—join the hunt?"

Zoe stared back at the daughter of Demeter with her black eyes. "Find Lady Artemis after the quest is done and then thou wilt have thy place amongst the sisters."

"Can't you let people join the hunt?" Lynzee asked, her eyes pleading.

Zoe shook her head. "I cannot. Only the Lady Artemis can give thee thy vows to make thee immortal."

"Oh." Lynzee deflated like a popped balloon and her shoulders sagged sadly.

A comforting hand was put on her shoulder, making her look up into warm black eyes. "Fear not. Thou shalt have a place in the hunt soon enough. I shall see to it."

Lynzee nodded gratefully. "Thank you. You've been a real help. I can't wait to—"

.

.

"—move, Lynzee!"

A black blur crashed into her side, shoving her out of the way and reigniting the pain in her arm and ribs but moving her out of the way of the monster's spear as it crashed to where she was before.

Through the haze of pain, Lynzee could see a hooded figure get speared through the shoulder, taking the place of her heart if she had still been there.

The person that pushed her out of the way simply ripped the weapon from their speared flesh and tossed it aside before diving towards the monster and spearing it through the stomach with a sword, turning it into shimmering golden powder that blew away in the wind.

The person knelt beside her and she was shocked to say the least. "Peyton?"

"Hey, _sssh_," the daughter of Poseidon soothed, petting her short hair from her face. "Let's get you to the infirmary."

Lynzee relaxed the muscles in her body as she heard a bunch of campers mingle around her and someone lift her onto a stretcher. She couldn't help but think how ironic it was that the girl she had almost killed ended up saving her life.

Maybe she was more like Percy than they originally believed.

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**A/N: I'm on a roll! Hades yeah! Anyways, before you guys go off on me for making Lynzee a biotch in some parts, let me just say that that is the way IShipElectricChairs requested it. So, ha! I AIM TO PLEASE~!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Khaalida: EASTER IS OVER~!**

**Aida: The chocolate was good.**

**Khaalida: *sulks in emo corner***

**Aida: Okay, I'll do the replies for the reviews.**

**TailsDoll13: First off: I AM SO SO SO SORRY IM LATE! I feel terrible! I thought I could get it posted yesterday but I just wanted to keep writing...That and the evil, vile thing known as homework... I LOVE TRATIE TOO~! I think they are so cute together and there will be a lot more fluff or stubble romance between them ;D XD No, it is totally not wrong to want to do that. People at camp just want to fit in and sometimes people make fun of others to do that. : ( -Right? I'm so excited to finally do your OC so tell me how I did and feel free to give me some pointers! I'll go back and fix it because I had absolutely no idea how to do this. :D This chapter is probably going to be really short because I have no idea how to do it so I improvised~! So I'm splitting it into two parts, okay? NEVER FEAR! XD Oh and before I forget feel free to send more ideas! I did this title in Latin instead of Greek JUST FOR YOU! Enjoy~~! **

**IShipElectricChairs: You have no idea how much I love that name XD Yeah I'll do that in the next chapter :D Haha, I'm excited to start writing this conversation... Keep feeding me ideas because I love them so much! XD lol Thanks for reviewing and please continue to do so!**

**Aida: AND THANK YOU ANONYMOUS REVIEWERS~~! OMG WE LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH!**

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**Vita Shazer, filia Neptune Pars {The life of Shazer, daughter of Neptune Part One}**

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Shazer was very familiar with the expression, "life isn't fair." Unfortunately, she learned it herself instead of getting the verbal explanation. Everyone in life has problems; it's just the way things go. Sometimes people's hardships are more difficult than others—_whoismyrealdad?_—but all can be overcome somehow.

"Hey, Shaz?" a huge, beefy teen with a baby-like face addressed the tan fifteen year old girl with layered brown hair.

Her piercing brown eyes turned up and met the boy's with a flicker of curiosity in them. "Yes, Frank?"

Even though they were in different cohorts, they were still friends. Shazer was friends with pretty much everyone in New Rome with the exception of Octavian. Not many people were friends with the blonde scarecrow-like teen, though. He tried to sabotage anyone he could if it would make him climb higher up on the social latter.

A kind smile was on Frank's face—_arealsmileunlikehers_—as he gestures vaguely to the armor she was polishing. "Reyna said you can stop cleaning all the weaponry and armor now. You've been doing it for . . . four hours, was it?"

"Six," the brunet corrected immediately. Cleaning and training helped calm her down. It kept the flashbacks and strange visions away.

The elder teen looked shocked. "_Right_, six. I think you should stop now and go to bed. It's already almost midnight."

Giving her friend a slight nod and a meek smile—_sheonlywearsonemask_—she made her way out of the armory.

Her feet made no noise as she walked around the empty town—_movementsasfluidaswater_—and towards the Fourth Cohort. Her home.

Her brown eyes flashed blue as they scanned her dark surroundings. Shadows crept eerily along the sidewalk in tune with her movements as she walked. The sky was a beautiful mixture of swirls of dark blue and black, sprinkled with stars shining brightly next to the pale moon in the night sky.

The city residents were all asleep, as they should be. She was all alone and to be honest she—

.

.

—was tired of it all.

The small preteen took her bottom lip between her teeth nervously as she stared at the deadly looking knife clutched tightly in her right hand.

It would make it easier, right? Cutting along the vein in her wrists and letting all of the pain fall in dark crimson splotches onto the tiled floor. She could let the pain of the bullying fall and bleed out to nothingness, couldn't she?

Tears stung her eyes as she thought of the kids at school who made fun of her. They called her a nerd and a teacher's pet for knowing the answers to almost every question in class. They called her a freak because of her autism. They made fun of her for wearing glasses. How easy would it be to just let everything go and—

"I'm home!" a happy voice sung from the kitchen. "And I brought Chinese food~!"

Quickly, the small girl shoved the sharp knife into the hair elastic drawer under the sink, accidentally poking herself with the sharp tip of the metal as she did so.

She watched in shock as the dark crimson well up onto her finger and drop to the floor in small crimson raindrops.

She hadn't known it would hurt _that_ much . . .

A knock on the bathroom door snapped her out of her stupor. "Hey, Shazer, you okay in there?"

"I'm fine," she called back, relieved to find that her voice remained steady. "I'll be out in a minute!"

"Alright!" her mom said, seemingly happy again. "Please hurry! You're food is going to get cold."

"Okay!" she called back out. Scrambling over to the toilet, she opened the lid gently before letting it fall back down, emitting an audible slam as if it had just been used. Next she quickly flushed it by pressing the small lever on the side and while it was taking streams of water down the drain she opened a bandage and wrapped it around her finger, quenching the blood flow. Smoothly she turned the water of the sink on, deciding to slick her frazzled hair back with some she wet her uninjured hand and patted the top of her brown locks, sticking the fly-always to her head.

Opening the bathroom door she glided out, fully intent on getting to the dining room to eat her supper.

Dimly, she noticed her finger didn't hurt anymore, but she quickly pushed the thought aside. It must have gone numb or something of that sort. There was _no way_ it could have—

.

.

—snapped out of the flashback and gasped for breath, leaning up against the side of a building and taking generous amounts of air into her lungs.

Shaking her head, the brown haired girl mentally scolded herself for falling into another memory and pushed off the cold stone of the wall, continuing her journey to the Fourth Cohort barracks.

The streets of New Rome were formed chaotically and it could be hard to navigate if you didn't know the way.

Left, left, straight, right, left, right, right, Shazer mentally chanted as she came across each pass.

After some time she finally reached her home—_abetterhomethanwiththemortals_—and quietly opened the door, silently slipping inside and creeping towards her bunk bed. Luckily she had the bottom bunk this week and her friend Abigail—_someonewhocanseebehindmymask_—, legacy of Pluto and Mars, had the top. Her friend's midnight colored hair splayed over the bar keeping the mattress up and helping others so that they didn't fall off, dangling in silky loose curls.

Biting her bottom lip, the teen decided to slip into the bed instead of taking the time to put her pajamas on, just now noticing the way her eyes dropped and everything was slightly blurred as she moved. Slipping under the covers, Shazer laid her head down on the soft, feather-filled pillow. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the—

.

.

—asphalt, scraping her hands.

"Freak!" a boy her age snickered. His bigger, bulky frame was currently hunched over from laughter. His friend's were in similar positions. The six other girls and four boys were all posed in laughter.

The brunet's eyes filled with tears that she refused to let fall. "I-I'm _not_ a freak," she insisted, mentally cursing herself when her voice cracked and held almost all of the desperation she felt.

"Yeah you are," a pretty, snobby girl said, flipping her dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You have, um, a . . . aut-artillery!"

One of he boys stared at the girl strangely and deadpanned, "Autism."

"What?" the girl said smartly, twirling a piece of her stringy hair around her finger.

"It's called autism, Kenley," a blonde girl added. She was the nicest of the group, always helping her up when no one else was looking or would slip extra money to her when she could for lunch. It didn't excuse the fact that she never stood up for her, though.

The stringy haired brunet huffed. "Whatever, Lizzy. Why would I even care about that, anyways?"

Lizzy turned her green-blue eyes to the ground and shrugged shyly.

Rolling her eyes, Kenley turned back to the girl who was still on the ground. "I can't believe you even go to this school. Can't you see no one—"

.

.

"—is autistic?"

People whispered in the halls as she passed, shooting her sneers or pitying looks. Her secret was out. Well, it wasn't really a secret, but only a handful of people who got to know her (namely her bullies) knew.

"—ADHD—"

"—that explains the—"

"—kleptomaniac is what I heard—"

"—who is Shazer—"

The brunet girl gripped the straps of her backpack tighter as she walked down the halls, determined to tune out the voices that were pounding at her ears.

For the hundredth time in her life, she wished that she wasn't so—

.

.

"—PERFECT, to me," the brown haired, brown eyes girl sang as she skillfully danced around her room listening to Pink. Her voice was a little off-key, but overall everything was perfect. Her movements were more fluid than water as she spun around, jumping and leaping, landing with precision.

"Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever ever feel, like you're nothing, you are perfect, to me."

The song ended and Shazer's breathing was slightly off from her exercise. Reaching a slim hand up, she pushed up her glasses which had fallen down her nose slightly as she had danced. She had several different pairs, but this specific one was one of her favorites and surprisingly complemented her soft, pretty features nicely. They were black-framed and looked like the ones off of Harry Potter, not dulling her bright brown eyes in the slightest.

The next song came on and she prepared to dance again, the muscles in her legs tensing.

"How you choose to express yourself, it's all your own and I can tell, it comes naturally. It comes naturally."

The brunet leapt around, gracefully spinning and doing movements in time with Selena Gomez's song.

She always did this on bad days. It helped her take her mind off things and loosen up. There was also the plus side of it keeping her healthy and strong.

As the song ended, her eyes focused on the white wall of—

.

.

—the garden outside.

Shazer looked around curiously. She was sitting outside in a beautiful maze-like garden, brilliant greens, blues, yellows, purples, pinks, and reds all around her. She sat at a pretty glass coffee table, a fine oak chair beneath her. A yellow sundress that fell just shoved her knees with a modest neckline adorned her body, a wide brown belt around her waist and golden Roman sandals on her feet. She ran a hand over the top of her hair and down her head, feeling her silky brown locks were encased in a firm braid beneath her fingers. Her glasses were off, but she could see perfectly fine. What was going on—?

"Beautiful here, isn't it?" a female voice voice interrupted her train of thought, making her jump in the air, startled.

Her head snapped to in front of her where a female sat, presumably a bit younger than her by her size and her voice.

Shazer blinked in surprise. She was sure there wasn't someone there before, yet there they were. Sitting in an identical chair as hers sat a figure that lulled her body to comfort even though her senses were screaming: **DANGER!**

She literally looked like she had stepped out of a Fairytale book. The girl was slim and resembled Little Red Riding Hood. She had a red cloak on that covered her entire face except for her pale, heart shaped jaw and ink-red lips. Her pale hands that weren't covered by her long, tight black cotton shirt were as pale as paper. A knee-length, gothic Lolita black skirt on that showed off her long, pale legs that were crossed neatly. Black Mary Jane shoes were on her feet, slipped over white lace socks.

As if confirming her thoughts about her being Little Red, she reached down beside her and put a brown wicker basket onto the fragile table.

"Bread?" she offered, holding up a delicious-smelling loaf of neatly-cut grain. "It's a secret recipe~."

"U-u-um, s-sure," she stuttered awkwardly, taking a slice. The bread was still warm and sent a good feeling up her hand.

Humming, the mysterious girl reached into the basket and pulled out two delicious sandwiches stuffed with different types of meat, lettuce, tomatoes, and other things she couldn't see.

Shazer took an awkward bite of the bread that tasted even better than it smelled and chewed thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing and asking a question softly. "Not to be rude, but who are you and how did I get here?"

The cloaked girl's lips pulled up into a wider smile. "To answer the second part of your question, I believe you are asleep in the barracks of the Fourth Cohort of New Rome."

The brunet blinked in shock, wondering how this weird girl could possibly know that. "Are you a figment of my imagination?"

The girl stopped humming and her head turned to the older teen. "Me? Oh, no, silly girl. I am the one that pulled you out of those horrid memories!"

Shazer blinked again, shocked beyond belief. "Are you a god?"

The hooded girl's smile turned amused. "No."

"Little Red Riding Hood?"

"Who? Oh, no."

"An alien that's come to steal my brains and experiment on me?"

"Sadly not."

"A lonely ghost that wants to have a picnic with a naive demigod?"

The girl laced her fingers together and rested her elbows on the table. "Close." She kept staring at her as if she wanted her to know the answer but the elder teen kept drawing up blanks.

The brunet shrugged cluelessly. "I don't know."

The strange girl hummed but said nothing more and went back to preparing food.

"Why am I here?" Shazer tried again.

"To be a soldier of New Rome and train to protect yourself," the other girl said without looking up.

"No," the elder teen said. "Not, well, New Rome. I mean, why am I _here_? In this dream?"

The cloaked girl's hands stilled and she straightened, stepping out of her chair. Her read cloak swished back and forth with the movement and the hooded teen gripped the bottom of her black shirt as if she was nervous. "You, Shazer, daughter of Neptune, member of the Fourth Cohort, legacy of Venus, are here so that you don't become like me."

The girl lifted her shirt up past her stomach and Shazer barely kept her food down but couldn't suppress her gasp of horror.

The girl's stomach was littered with scars. One particularly deep one was a lash that went up, hidden by the lacy shirt and went down past the fabric of her skirt. But that wasn't what caught her attention.

Right where her ribs ended was a hole that was at least three inches around. Only it went straight through her body so that her red cloak was visible on the other side.

"I guess I'm your unofficial guardian angel. I use to be a daughter of the sea god, bane of Olympus, secret defender of Perseus Jackson. My name once was Peyton Shahar, daughter of Poseidon."

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**THE END...**

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**A/N: I'm so sorry if this is crap! I have tons of homework to do and I'VE HIT A WRITER'S BLOCK! AAAAAH! **

**Anyways, reviews and PM's are loved.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Khaalida: I got a few PM's and reviews asking me to explain how and why Peyton died, and let me just say that this chapter will fill some of that in, but you won't find out how she died until Lilaya has the dream! It is an important part of the plot, and there will be tons of hints dropped for as to why Peyton died and what she meant by "so you don't become like me" to Shazer. THIS IS PART II OF THE LAST CHAPTER! Oh, and I accidently put Shazer down as 14, when she's really 13. *facepalm* From now on I will be fixing that.**

**Aida: Nyxie here would like to apologize for the late update. She has exhausted me through schoolwork and wrung out all of my creative ideas like a sponge.**

**Khaalida: Most of the important hints in here will be in ****_italics_****~! THE SECOND MEMORY WILL TAKE PLACE BEFORE THE FIRST! THEY ARE NOT IN ORDER!**

**Aida: Khaalida does not own PJO, tLH, tSoN, or tMoA. If she did, it would suck.**

**Khaalida: ****Hey—!**

**Aida: Onto review replies!**

**TailsDoll13: I am evil! MUAHAHAHAHA! Yeah, so I made Peyton die ^^" But don't worry! Your character and her are going to be an important part to the plot of my diabolical mind! *facepalms* Did I really forget that Shazer is 14? *SMASH* That is the sound of my ego, smashing into pieces. I'll refer to her as thirteen from now on… THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING!**

**IShipElectricChairs: Sadly, you cannot know that yet. Her death was prophesied by the Fates though, which you shall find more about in this chapter. Review for me~!**

**Nix Readaholic17: XD Yes, she is! In this chappie you'll find out more about why she died, so tell me whatcha think ;D When she said "so you don't become like me"—well, I can't tell you. That would totally give away my plot. I'll be giving out hints like free pencils here so keep your eyes peeled! XD Enjoy and please review again!**

**LeoValdez10: Specifics...? I would love to do that on the next chapter! ^^ Any particular suggestions...?**

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**Alius mysery ut solve {Another mystery to solve}**

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The brunet teen stared dumbly at the hooded girl in front of her. Finally her brain processed what was said to her and she came up with a brilliant response of, "What?"

Giggling, the younger girl smoothed her shirt back down over her injury (if you could call it that) and happily plopped back into her chair. "Shocking, _isn't_ it?" Her mouth was up in a strangely familiar crooked grin. The girl crossed her arms casually on the clear table and leaned forward slightly, seeing the older teen's expression. "Do you remember me?"

The brunet sputtered in confusion. "I—I have no idea—what are you—what—?"

The younger girl leaned back in her chair and giggled childishly. "You sort of do." She stood up and brushed imaginary dirt off her skirt. "But I think you need some help. Just a little push."

She skipped over so that she was only about a foot in front of the brunet and leaded over, her hand outstretched.

"What—?" Shazer didn't even finish her sentence before one pale finger touched her forehead and the scene around her melted into—

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—the wall of the dam. Her parents were inside the dam store, buying food and drinks while she looked around. Wiping the back of her hand across her sweaty forehead, she pushed her sunglasses up with the other hand and used it as a headband. "It's _so hot_," she complained, knowing no one would hear her. She was alone, after all.

"I agree," someone sighed next to her, making her jump high in the air and turn her wide brown eyes to the stranger next to her.

It was obviously a girl, even if her figure was a little malnourished; her lean muscles seemed to balance that fact out. She wore a Lolita purple skirt that went several inches above her knees with the layers under it being white and a neat green bow around her waist and the same shade of green for the trimming. Her shirt was thin and made of cotton, with a sharp neckline and tucked smartly into her skirt. Her shoes were a pair of converse that hugged her thin but shapely legs, the green and purple laces matching the skirt. The girl's hair was pulled tightly into a black hat that came low over her face, so it was impossible to see her hair color or what her facial features looked like except for her pink lips and heart-shaped jaw. The girl's exposed skin on her arms, legs, and neck were as pale as paper under the bright sun.

It wasn't normal to be out like that at all. What a strange girl.

"W—who—um, what—when did—"

The girl giggled childishly, cutting off her stuttering. "Hi," she said pleasantly, holding out a slim, well-manicured hand. Shazer came to the conclusion that this girl must be rich. "My name is Pey—errr, Paige. Paige... Samal."

Pursing her lips, the brunet eyed the girl's outstretched hand warily. Her instincts were screaming at her not to trust this strange girl, but the aura she gave off was warm and comforting and lulled her body to relax. _Besides, what harm could a girl a couple years younger than her do, anyway?_

"Sh—Shazer," she said, shaking it firmly. "Shazer Merecia."

She dimly registered that the girl's hands were _freezing_, but brushed it off. What would that _simple fact_ matter, anyway?

The girl let their hands drop and hummed, tipping her head to the side thoughtfully before a lopsided smile quirked at her lips. "The first part of your last name is from Biblical origins, meaning _'rebellious'_ and _'ruling'_; the second half means _'of the sea'_ in Latin. Very strange name, there." Her smile grew. "Strange and ironic."

Shazer blinked, wondering if she should run away from this strange person now. "U—um... Okay?"

"So, Shazer," the girl drawled, her head turning towards the buildings. "What are you doing at Hoover Dam?"

Once again Shazer had to remind herself that this was some preteen kid, not some mass murderer, and she could answer that question. "I'm here with my parents." After a short pause she added, "And you?"

The grin on the girl's face turned almost feral. "I'm here to watch a brother of mine. My only brother, actually. See, he's doing a favor for someone with a group of friends and he just hates it when he fails and is known to do reckless things. So I guess you could say that I'm pulling the strings from behind and making sure he stays safe."

"Oh," she responded awkwardly, unsure of what else to say.

The girl did the _strangest _thing. She took a small sniff of the air, and her head snapped to the brunet so quickly she was surprised she didn't get whiplash. She sniffed a few more times before taking one long sniff of the air. Her nose crinkled like she smelled something foul. "Huh. Surprises seem to come a lot these days. I didn't think I'd run into any of you out here. Well, you're the other half, you aren't in my jurisdiction."

Thunder rumbled in the background as if disagreeing with her last statement, which was strange because there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

The strange girl tilted her head up, the shadows seemingly wrapping around her face and hiding her features from view even though she was facing the sun.

"Will you _shut up_!" she screamed.

Shazer blinked in shock, wondering if she was stuck with a lunatic.

"You never said that half! Go bug your wife!" Thunder rumbled angrily again and the girl huffed, muttering about stupid supernatural beings.

This had to be the—

.

.

—worst day of her life. The brunet pushed her glasses up to her forehead with one hand and wiped her tears away with the other. _Why did people feel like they had to push others down to make themselves higher?_

The girl let go of her glasses, letting them slip back onto her nose and curled her legs up to her chest. She didn't understand why people felt like they had to bully others. Was it _just _to keep face in front of others?

"Bad day?" a soothing and obviously female voice asked next to her, starting herself out of her pity party.

Even in her messy state, she was able to twist quickly and see who was talking to her. It was a girl maybe _two or three years older_ than her—she couldn't really tell with the hat obscuring her features—wearing a too-big black slip-on hoodie and ratty jeans and sneakers. The strange scent of a reptile house hit her nostrils and she unconsciously crinkled her nose in disgust. She had always had a strange phobia of snakes.

"Well?" the hooded girl asked, casually leaning against the wall behind her with her arms folded and ankles crossed lazily.

"M-me?" Shazer stuttered, sure if had to be some mistake. _Why would anyone want to talk to her?_

The girl snorted. "Do you see anyone else here?"

The brunet felt her cheeks grow warm. She hadn't really thought about that...

"W-why would you want t-to talk with _me_?" She fisted her hands in her shirt nervously.

The mystery girl shrugged. "I just wandered by, actually." Her mouth turned into a lopsided smirk. "I just popped right in here and ended up..." Her head turned from side to side as if she was assessing her location for the first time. "Actually, I don't know where I am. Anyways, I just needed some time to think and I ran into you."

Shazer blinked. _How do you not know where you are?_

"I-if you don't know where you are," she said. "How do you expect to get back?"

The hooded girl's smirk turned into a Cheshire Cat smile. "Trade secret."

Shazer gave her a strained smile and inconspicuously inched away, her moment of tears forgotten.

The aura this girl gave off practically lulled her into a trance-like state but her survival instincts were screaming at her to run away... _Why am I reacting like this..?_

"Hey, kid," the girl said. "Catch."

Shazer held her hands out just in time for a small brown rectangle no longer than her ring finger to fall into her palms.

"It's chocolate," the girl explained in a happy-sounding voice. "It's good, I promise. I don't know when I learned how to make them, but I do. Sometimes I pretend my mum taught me how… but I don't remember her."

Shazer's heart swelled with gratitude and sympathy for the girl before her. How could she give her something this precious?

"Thank you," she whispered sincerely.

The girl waved her off. "No problem. My brother goes through them like water, so I figured someone else could have a try."

Shazer detected a slight smirk in the girl's voice when she said water, but couldn't figure out why.

She inspected the chocolate in her hand and gave it a small bite. It was _delicious_, she realized. When she turned her brown eyes up to where the girl was to thank her again, she was gone.

Had she—

.

.

The brunet was thrown out of the memories, panting hard.

"Figure it out yet?" the hooded girl asked, once again in her chair across from her and pulling out a seemingly endless supply of food from the small basket.

"Y-you're—" the brown eyed girl sputtered, unable to form a complete sentence.

"Aye," the girl agreed, pausing to daintily cross her pale legs and rest her hands in her lap and mock-saluting her.

"I would give you other details from when I was there, but I don't remember them yet." She took a slim hand and tapped her temple with her index finger. "I'm still gaining my own memories."

Shazer blinked in confusion. _Her own memories?_

The girl got up and stretched her body like a cat. "_However_, I believe there is a little something Gaia wants to show you and she's a bit peeved that she can't get into your dreams. Dearest GG doesn't know I'm blocking her, though. Enough with that, now! I'm afraid I must go before she gets suspicious."

With an elegant clap of her hands, the scene faded into—

.

.

—a lobby of a hotel or some sort of casino. "I don't know _what to do_ anymore."

The black haired teen clutched his head with his hands. He was sitting on a couch in an empty lobby, his elbows resting on his knees. At one glance you would be able to tell he was someone who got a lot of attention from women. He had a toned, muscled body, tan skin, and sea green eyes. His features that usually labeled him as a trouble maker in class and had the teachers make him sit in the front were now twisted in despair.

Suddenly a hand came onto his shoulder, starting him. He jumped, looking ready for action, but the tension immediately left his body when he saw who it was.

"Hey, sis," he greeted the person in front of him.

His younger sister stood there, her ratty jeans on, beat up sneakers, and her signature hood and baseball cap were pulled over her head, hiding her face from view like always.

The black haired fifteen-soon-to-be-sixteen year old hadn't ever seen her face. No one had.

Her lips curled into a smile—her lips and chin, the only things that weren't obscured by the hood and cap. "You need rest."

The frazzled teen sighed tiredly and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "You know I can't. I have plans to make. People are counting on me."

The thirteen year old girl in front of him folded her arms under her chest. "And they need a strong, dependent leader who can rally them into battle in a moment's notice, not a teenage boy who's so fatigued that he can't even stand up straight."

The boy huffed, knowing she was right. It's not like he was going to tell her that, though.

"Please, Percy," she whispered. "Just for a few hours. I'll wake you right away if there's another attack or you're needed. I swear on the River Styx."

Thunder boomed outside, signaling the sealing of the oath.

Sighing in defeat, Percy nodded and lay on the soft-looking couch, finding a comfortable position.

"Sleep," his sister said soothingly.

He would nod off every few minutes, but the hooded girl next to him could tell he was fighting the last signs of sleep. So she opened her mouth and began to sing a lullaby, not knowing where the words or tune came from.

_"And the rain is falling down,_

_"Sliding down my face, mixing with the tears,_

_"Oh please, darling, wipe away all my fears,_

_"The flames rise in the ashes,_

_"And rise up, one by one,_

_"Up into that beautiful place,_

_"Can you take me there?_

_ Can you take me there?_

_"Where there is said to be no pain?_

_"And where there is only love?_

_"Are you watching me from up above?_

_"We used to be kings and queens, children of gods,_

_"But now all that is left is a few broken songs,_

_"The things I know are not what are,_

_"Please take me away, so far,_

_"The flames rise from the ashes,_

_"One by one,_

_"The stars are so bright,_

_"Why don't I have a momma to hold me tight?_

_"For she is gone, somewhere far,_

_"Some place that cannot be reached by plane or train or car,_

_"My heart is broken, I've lost my way,_

_"I do not understand—you said you had the key,_

_"So why am I lost?_

_"My heart is breaking, the foundations of my faith are shaking,_

_"Crystal tears flow, mixing with the rain,_

_"The only thing left to do is hope and pray,_

_"But I shall win, I will be strong,_

_"And in the end, I will be standing—"_

Someone cleared their throat behind the girl, causing her to jump and turn to see the intruder, one hand on the dagger sheathed on her hip.

When she saw who it was, she gasped and dropped into a bow. "Lady Ves—Hestia," she corrected.

The goddess, who had appeared in here twenty year old form, smiled warmly. "Hello, Peyton Shahar. That was a lovely song."

The girl was once again thankful for the protection of her hood as she felt her cheeks grow warm. "Thank you, milady."

The goddess' warm eyes took in Percy's sleeping form with concern. "How is he?"

The cloaked girl—Peyton—moved her shadowed eyes from the goddess before her to her fallen brother on the couch. "He's resting now but he put up a good fight."

The son of Poseidon had fallen asleep not even halfway through the first part of the song.

The Goddess of the Hearth chucked lightly at this and rested her soft gaze on the hooded girl, suddenly serious. "You know I have not come here for idle chat. I even appeared in my adult form for this."

With a nonchalant pose, the teen girl shrugged and addressed the goddess. "No offense, Lady Hestia, but unless it pertains to Percy's health, I doubt it will be of much importance to me."

The Goddess of the Hearth frowned at the answer. She seemed conflicted with something and finally sighed. "Peyton, you need to _stop_ thinking like that. Your life is important as well."

"We both know that's not true," Peyton whispered. "My fate has already been decided by them. I will die on the eve of my fourteenth birthday. And that's in two days."

Hestia looked at the young girl sadly. "Many people will miss you. Your father and brother especially."

_"Bull shit,"_ the girl snarled, shocking the gentle goddess. "If my father _really_ loved me he would have helped me when I was on the _streets_ and _starving to death_ or cornered in an alleyway and about to get _mugged_ for the last of my food? Tartarus—if he _cared_, he would have _acknowledged my existence_ in the last _thirteen years_! It took Percy _weeks_ to even _look at me,_ let alone _talk_. In his eyes I am a mistake and embarrassing to be around because I am a reminder. A reminder that Poseidon cheated on his mother and summoned another demigod child. It is only his fatal flaw that prevents him from caring about me. In his eyes, I will _never_ be his sister."

Guilt ate at Hestia's heart. "Oh, Peyton, that's not—"

"Don't tell me it isn't true," she snapped. "We both already know it is. The gods are selfish and don't care about who they hurt. In my opinion I should never have been born but I won't rest until I'm sure Percy is safe. That's the only thing I care about."

"Oh, child," the brown haired goddess said sadly, looking on the verge of tears. "I am so sorry."

In response she got a curious tilt of the head.

"Your memories—the morgue—the gods thought that—we agreed that it would be best—"

"What?" Peyton whispered, sounding confused.

Hestia put a comforting hand on the younger girl's shoulder. "I cannot tell you much, child. The—the counsel agreed that it would be best if you didn't remember because it might change your choice of what side on the war—"

The younger girl smacked the goddess' hand from her shoulder. "You took my _memories_? My _life_?"

Hestia pursed her lips. "Please Peyton, we thought it would be best if we erased your mind and de-aged—"

"De-aged?" she demanded. "So I would have been the child of the prophecy but now I'm stuck here with no memories and unloved?"

"No, no," the goddess tried to soothe the distressed girl. "You are very loved here, even if you don't realize—"

"Did I have a family?" the girl whispered brokenly, her head turned down.

Hestia gulped, unable to cope with the guilt eating away at her, even if it _was her_ she was talking to. "Y—yes."

"A mom?" her voice sounded hoarse. Hestia nervously wet her suddenly dry lips. "Yes."

"Did I—did I have any… brothers? Or sisters?"

The daughter of Kronos swallowed thickly. "Two younger brothers and an older brother. The younger ones were twins and the eldest adopted you."

The hooded girl's shoulders were shaking. Abruptly, her head snapped up and the goddess saw that the girl's lips were pressed into a tight line and there were tears dripping off her chin. "Why me?"

"Why me?" the girl repeated. "Did the gods think I was_ incapable_ of fulfilling the prophecy? Was my family okay or were they _constantly worrying_ about me? Why did I end up in a _morgue_? Why doesn't Poseidon _care about me_ like he cares for _Percy?_ Why can't I be _normal_? Why does everyone think I'm a homeless, worthless, freak?"

Hestia looked at the demigod sadly. "There is still much you do not understand and I am not sure you ever will. However, I do know this: if you get your memories back, you will not be pleased by what you see."

"Why?" Peyton asked. "Did they not love me? Was I abused at home?"

Hestia winced. _She had hoped it wouldn't come to this…_ "No—your family loved you very much. You would do everything for each other and you were over-protective of your siblings, even though they were more than capable of taking care of themselves."

"So why did you take me?" her voice cracked.

"The Fates recommended it to us and leant us the power to turn your age back. Each god was assigned a certain period to have your memories, but with the war on full-force, they are harder to hold onto."

"Why am I having flashbacks of things in other people's lives?"

"I cannot tell you."

"B—but—it's my _life_ we're talking about here! You can't keep this from me!"

"I'm sorry, Peyton," Hestia apologized sincerely. "I voted with the gods that it would be best to keep your memories from you to keep peace."

Peyton snarled in anger and paced the floor in a tight line. "Are they even alive?"

"What?" Hestia asked, blinking in confusion.

"My family," the girl clarified, stopping in her pacing and stiffly facing the goddess before her. "Are they all alive and well?"

Hestia grimaced. "One of your twin brothers is a thief and owns his own… company. The other settles down by himself sometimes in a secluded area. The eldest is in... prision for murder... and your mother…"

"Yes?" the teen prompted, numb.

"Your mother—she was killed four years ago. She was murdered by beheading."

Peyton pressed a hand to her lips to suppress a sob.

"Peyton—" Hestia tried, reaching a hand out to the broken demigod.

The girl swatted the goddess' hand away. "Don't touch—"

.

.

"—Shazer Merecia," a sleepy voice purred soothingly. "Why are you on the gods' side?"

The daughter of Neptune blinked. _Was this lady serious?_ "My family and friends," she said without hesitation.

The voice of Gaia hummed, echoing throughout the empty darkness of nothingness. "Would you like to join me? You could be a commander of an army—unstoppable."

Shazer's lips twisted into a frown. "I will fight with my family and friends," she said with certainty and determination.

The voice of Gaia laughed. "I can spare your silly mortal friends so long as they do not get in my way. Your father however is an Olympian and therefore my enemy."

Shazer did her best to keep her voice strong and not stutter. "I fight with my family."

Gaia sighed, seemingly disappointed. "Very well, girl. See what you think in five day's time, hm? I shall ask for another answer then."

Images of her terrible childhood flashed before her eyes before—

.

.

—the brunet shot up from her bed in cold sweat, shaking and panting. Throwing the covers off of her trembling figure, she stumbled to the bathroom as quickly as she could and locked the door behind her, put her back against the cold tile of the wall, and slid to the floor.

_Breathe in, and out, _she mentally chanted. _In and out, in and out, in and out._

She ran a tan, shaky hand through her tangled hair that was stuck unpleasantly to her forehead in sweat and tried to rein control of her breathing.

_Was that real? _she mused. _Peyton, the memories, Gaia?_

She stood up on shaky legs and looked at her frazzled appearance in the mirror, grimacing at what she saw. Her brown hair had random flyaway hairs sticking up and waving lazily in non-existent wind while her bangs were plastered to her forehead with sweat. Her normally tan face was drained of almost all color and she was shaking. Then there was the fact that—_what the Hades?!_

Shazer leaned forward and gripped the edge of the counter, staring at her clothing in disbelief and taking in her hair. Her silky brown locks were braided neatly (partially ruined by sleep) and her clothes… A yellow sundress was on her body and Roman golden sandals were on her feet.

_Oh,_ she thought numbly. _I guess it wasn't a dream then._

After a few minutes her brain finally processed what had happened, so she tried to take her mind off things and took a quick shower and dressed back into the clothes from her… Could she even call it a dream?

She dressed back into the clothes she had on before and braided her hair into a simple side braid before walking out of the bathroom.

"You okay there?" Abigail immediately asked as she came out. The legacy child had pretty, silky midnight hair that reached her waist in loose curls. Her skin was tan—like all Roman's—and she looked like she had a bit of Indian blood in her features. Her friend scanned her with warm hazel eyes and Shazer felt the unnerving feeling of being x-rayed.

Shazer shifted from foot-to-foot and tried her best not to look guilty, but it only made the dark girl narrow her eyes.

_Aw, crap_, Shazer thought. _Now she knows._

Luckily, before the legacy of Mars and Pluto could say anything, Hazel poked her head in the door. "Shazer?"

Abigail's lips twitched upward at the daughter of Pluto's appearance but she kept her face neutral because of the Cohort rivalry.

"Yeah?" Shazer breathed, trying to not sound too relieved at her appearance.

The daughter of Pluto's eyes sparkled with mischief.

_Uh, oh._

"Nico is here~," she half-sang before turning and leaving.

A furious blush crawled up onto the sea god's daughter's cheeks and she ran after her friend who teased her relentlessly about her_ infatuation_ with the son of Pluto. Hey, she was a teenage girl. It wasn't her fault if she found him mildly attractive. Okay, a lot attractive, but that was the same thing. Besides, who couldn't like him? His pale skin, midnight hair—

Shazer smashed her thoughts to a halt right there and mentally berated herself for sounding like a sappy Twilight movie. Next thing she knew she was going to walk around with a t-shirt on that said TEAM NICO!

"Hey, Shazer."

Suppressing a squeal of surprise, Shazer jumped back and looked at who had addressed her. _Speak of the devil and he shall appear…_

"Oh," she said, trying to sound casual. "Hey, Nico."

_This is going to be a looooong day…._

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**THE END**

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**A/N: Okay, reviews, please? I'm sorry I took so long—homework just sucks like that. The end of the year tests is coming up soon and I have study jitters so I have to work that out too. PLEASE GIVE ME IDEAS! I really love writing ideas for people so if you have an OC or another thing you want to find out here feel free to ask or tell me.**

**Before you say anything: yes, Hestia acted out of character, but that is because you don't know anything yet. Remember that appearances can be deceiving~! Be specific in your requests, please, or I might just go with the flow~**


	5. Chapter 5

**Nyx: Let me just start off by saying I am sorry I haven't updated in a while, but with my friend accidentally starting her hair on fire (shame, too. Her hair was really pretty), and me getting in (ANOTHER) biking accident and having to get stitches, I've been a little preoccupied. Not to mention in sick.**

**Aida: Nyx would like to apologize for the spelling mistakes, grammar errors, punctuation, and shortness.**

**Nyx: I am too lazy to do reviews and I still have to study for my Maths test tomorrow, so this is going to be short but I felt like I just had to put something. Sorry if this matches my dark mood -_- It will be super dark, so don't read if you don't like. This is definitely not one of my best pieces of work, but I can't really write anything write now so it'll have to work. This takes place before Peyton meets Percy. So future note to self for me: Never write when having a pain-in-the-arse killer headache, stomachache, and having right arm be in constant pain.**

**Aida: KhaalidaNyx does not own PJO, tLH, tSoN, or any of the original characters. She only owns part of the plot and a few OC's**

**Nyx: Here ya go~!**

**Warnings: DARK THEMES, SONGS, AND TOPICS!**

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**Ο Θεός της θάλασσας συναντά ένα πνεύμα {The sea god meets a spirit}****PRE-CF, tTC**

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The stretch of land sprawled on for what seemed like forever, the dead planes covered in short grass made a strange mixture of dull yellow, dying brown, and faded green. The sky was glassy and gray, not a single cloud decorating the depressing sky. There was no sun and yet the land managed to stay light, everything bathed in a gray-yellow-orange light. A light fog blanketed the ground, giving the bland area a mystical and haunted feel.

Sitting in the middle of the land was a rusty silver cage around twelve feet tall and eight feet wide shaped like a cube. The spaces inbetween the bars were roughly six inches wide and tall. Rustic, silver spikes a foot long pointed inwards, facing whatever was contained in the cage. Despite the prison's appearance, it could survive a three thousand-foot drop and not even gain a dent or a loose screw.

Inside the cage sat a single swing that looked at old as the cage it was in, covered in peeling red paint. It was simple and nothing special, just a pole seven feet up and two other poles shaped like upside-down V's on either side, with two old chains in the middle of the top pole, connecting to a rubber seat.

Rocking happily back and forth was a small figure. A human girl, to be exact.

She wore a washed-out black lace Lolita dress that reached a few inches above her knees and had off-the-shoulder sleeves, a dull red corset with straps that went around her shoulders, and simple dirty flats that had ripped black ribbons attached to them that wrapped around her pale, slim legs and ended just below her knees in sloppy bows. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders in lazy curls and ended at mid-back. A simple red headband that matched her corset kept her hair away from her face. She appeared to be about eight years old.

The thing that had the most color in the plain world were her bright eyes and pale skin.

A doll with a washed out blue-gray dress sat propped up in her lap. It was missing its left eye and the other was simply black and the plastic that served as its eyelid slid shut every time it was leant back. The swing gave a soft creak in protest every time the girl went back and forth. The eerie atmosphere was only amplified by her singing.

_"Oranges and lemons,_

_Say the bells of St. Clement's._

_You owe me five farthings,_

_Say the bells of St. Martin's._

_Here comes a candle to light you to bed,_

_Here comes a chopper to chop off your head._

_Chip chop chip chop_

_The last man's dead!(1)"_

She threw her head back and burst into a fit of giggles, tangling her small pale fingers in the golden locks of her doll and swinging it by her side happily while her other hand grasped the metal chains of her swing to keep herself upright. A glazed look came over her eyes as she thought of another song to sing. Singing kept her mind occupied, filling it with words and tunes instead of nightmares.

_"There was an old woman who lived in a shoe._

_She had so many children, she didn't know what to do;_

_She gave them some broth without any bread;_

_Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed._

_When she came back_

_They were a'lying dead_

_She went to the wright_

_To get them a coffin_

_When she came back_

_They were a'lying laughing_

_She gaed up the stair_

_To ring the bell_

_The bell-rope broke_

_And down she fell~!(2)"_

The girl set the doll in her lap and ran her fingers through the tangled golden locks. "Do you know an old woman who lived in a shoe?" she asked, eyes glittering maliciously before she sang again, gently smoothing the doll's hair away from its face.

When she didn't receive an answer from the doll, she frowned and threw it to the other side of the cage, the momentum making it impale onto one of the spikes. She hummed for a few minutes, not doing anything but rocking back and forth until a song came to her head.

_"And rise up, one by one,_

_Up into that beautiful place,_

_Can you take me there?_

_Can you take me there?_

_Where there is said to be no pain?_

_And where there is only love?_

_Are you watching me from up above?_

_I use to be a Queen,_

_Having more power than a god,_

_Now all that is left is me and my songs,_

_Say 'Count to ten, heads will roll!_

_Bring forth your pay, make the toll!_

_All ye be here to end your days,_

_By beheading or hanging—_

_You choose your way!'(3)"_

The girl giggled in delight again although her mirth seemed forced after that song.

She sang as if she had an experience with something like that. To anyone else, it would be a silly thought. She was _far_ too young to have anything to do with that!

A soft frown tugged on her lips before she sang again in an attempt to lift her mood. She didn't want bad thoughts. Hades was creative in making her prison and she had no desire to see _those_ again.

_"Little skylark, lovely little skylark_ _Little lark, _

_I'll pluck your feathers off_ _I'll pluck the feathers off your head. I'll pluck the feathers off your head._

_I'll pluck the feathers off your beak. I'll pluck the feathers off your beak._

_I'll pluck the feathers off your eyes. I'll pluck the feathers off your eyes._

_I'll pluck the feathers off your neck. I'll pluck the feathers off your neck._

_I'll pluck the feathers off your wings. I'll pluck the feathers off your wings._

_I'll pluck the feathers off your feet. I'll pluck the feathers off your feet._

_I'll pluck the feathers off your tail. I'll pluck the feathers off your tail._

_I'll pluck the feathers off your back. I'll pluck the feathers off your back._

_Off your back!_

_Off your tail!_

_Off your feet!_

_Off your wings!_

_Off your neck!_

_Off your eyes!_

_Off your beak!_

_Off your head!_

_Little lark!_

_O-o-o-oh!(4)"_

Her mouth pulled into a wide grin as she finished the song, her mood no longer bitter.

She hummed aimlessly to herself for an unknown amount of time. The sky never changed, the temperature never dropped, the scenery never gave the faintest hint of life.

An impossibly bright flash of light and the sound of dead grass crunching underfoot alerted her of something that should not be there. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion until the smell of the sea wafting into her nostrils. A smile that would make the Cheshire Cat jealous stretched across her face and she knew who it was automatically, not needing to turn her head turned to look at the intruder.

"Hello, Poseidon," she sung, but there was no warmth in her eyes.

She looked up and in one fluid motion she stood up from her swing and walked closer to the edge of the cage where the man on the other side of the bars god of the sea looked uncomfortable. His sea green eyes were filled with discomfort and unease and he ran a tanned hand through his unruly black hair awkwardly.

"Hello, Lithelacinth(5)," he greeted, somehow managing to force a smile onto his face. "How are you?"

The girl hummed happily. "I am well. As well as I can be in one of the Fields of Punishment, anyway."

The sea god's smile turned into more a grimace. "Your prison seems more . . . _tame_ compared to others I have seen."

Lithelacinth giggled as if it was one of the funniest things she had ever heard. "Looks can be deceiving, god of the sea. I have a wild imagination and anything terrifying I manage to think up appears before me. Hades thought of it with help from Persephone. The mind is a strange thing, no? You threaten someone and they think of what that could mean before they actually get the punishment. So this is the waiting booth I guess you could say until I get my punishment."

Poseidon kept up his attempts to smile, knowing this girl could use his bad manners as an excuse as to not talk to him. She was wild and unrestrained, no matter how long they kept her down here. "This plan seems foolproof."

"It's even enchanted by Hecate," the girl chirped happily. "I am unable to use my . . . err, _abilities_ to get out."

"So this is your permanent placement, then?" the sea god asked, inspecting the cage. Strong bars, spikes, no way out? Check, check, and check.

She giggled again. "Oh, no. I'm just biding my time. I _will_ get out again, no mistake about it. You Olympians should know by now that no prison can contain me for long."

The sea god grimaced at the reminder of what they had tried in the past to keep the innocent-looking girl firmly under lock and key. "Well, you may be leaving sooner than you thought."

A curious expression fixed itself onto the girl's face. "Oh?"

"The truth is—" here Poseidon cut himself off awkwardly and forced himself to say the next words. "The truth is . . . we need you again."

Before he could even blink the curious expression on the girl's face twisted into a furious one. Her big, innocent, doe-eyes narrowed into slits and flashed crimson. Her lips twisted into a snarl.

_"Need me?_ I am _done_ being the gods lap dog, Poseidon. I have _already_ allowed one _'hero'_ to kill my _mother_._ Countless_ favors I have done for the gods. How do you foolish Olympians repay me? By _shoving_ me in a _cage_ and making me endure years of _torture_! That isn't even _counting_ what you tried to put me through before!" Poseidon frowned. "The gods are willing to take back your punishment if you watch over a group of heroes."

The girl snarled and lunged forward, grabbing the metal bars of the cage with a resounding _clang!_, making the sea god take a step back in shock.

"Make no mistake about this, Poseidon," she hissed, voice low. "I will get out on my own, and when I do—and I will—I will tear Olympus down _brick by brick_ for the actions you all have taken against me."

"You act like you have done no wrong!" Poseidon raged. "How many mortals have you killed, Bringer of Chaos? Do you even _know_ how many promises you made to them that ended in their death?"

The girl bared her teeth in anger, showing off her slightly larger and sharper than normal canines. "You act as if they did not deserve it! I was forced to kill them because they 'defiled the gods'! Besides, they should know the consequences of courting chaos. If you want help, go to someone else."

Poseidon shook his head. "I cannot do that. The council decided it was to be you to watch over them."

"I will not go!" she seethed.

The god shook his head. "You have no choice. And why would you not want to leave? You have been trapped in here for—what? Two hundred years?"

"Yes," she mused. "I can't really tell. My clothes change as the years progress but other than that there is no indication of how long has passed."

"Then come," Poseidon prompted. "The gods have all agreed—well, except Athena, Apollo, and Artemis while Persephone abstained—that you would be free of your past actions and you would be able to visit your family."

"But at what price?" she hissed, as observant as ever. The lonely time in her prison had not dulled her awareness.

"Come to Olympus and we shall discus it."

"Does Hades even know you wander his lands?" she asked, skillfully avoiding the topic.

The god frowned at the change of subject. "Yes, he voted for your freedom."

The girl scoffed. "Freedom is such a fickle thing. You gods promise one thing and give another. We are not as different as you would like to believe."

"What other choice do you have?" the god challenged.

An expression of malice that should be on no one's face formed the girl's expression. "I could always call my _big brother_ and have _him_ sort things out."

The god's eyes widened in alarm. "But he was banished—"

The girl laughed harshly. "You think that means anything? He comes and goes as I call him."

"He has not been seen in thousands of years," Poseidon argued.

The girl hummed. "Maybe. But you forget who you are speaking to, son of Kronos. Do not think I have forgotten that you are the reason why my mother got cursed."

"You are needed on Olympus," Poseidon said, eyes narrowed. "You have no choice in the matter. Either you come willingly or Hades will drag your prison to the surface."

The child's eyes narrowed in challenge, all color in her eyes overtaken by a bloody crimson color. "Then I suppose he will have to drag me. I will never leave here willingly unless it is on my own accord."

"So be it."

In a brilliant flash of light they were gone, leaving only the smell of the sea behind.

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**THE END**

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**Okay, I just realized how creepy this is. This is probably as dark as it will get, but later in the story things will fall into place and this won't actually seem as confusing and weird as it is now. **

**Apparently I feel miserable so I want my readers to be the same.** **I am totally not loving this piece of writing at all right now, but I feel like I need to post something. Please review~! Let me know the creepiness factor! I will post a chapter of CF in a few days!**

**1: Folklorists Peter and Iona Opie pointed out that in the days of public executions, the condemned were led along the street to the accompaniment of the tolling of bells.** **Far from traumatized, children gleefully reveled in the last verses and even made a game of it. They threatened to capture whoever ran beneath their arched arms as they shouted "chip chop chip chop!" What followed wasn't an execution, but a game of tug of war between the "oranges" and "lemons", hence why the name of the song is "Oranges and Lemons."**

**2: (First published in Infant Institutes, 1797), At first glance in "There Was an Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe", this rhyme seems to depict a poverty-stricken woman trying to provide food and discipline for her children.** **A politically-correct version might have her doling out time-outs instead of whippings, but we get the point. According to another version from James Orchard Halliwell's Nursery Rhymes of England, things take a creepy turn near the end of the song.**

**3: Here's a hint! See the previous chapter if you don't remember a similar song. This is actually a lullaby that parents sing their kids. -_- - Right?**

**4: This song is called "Alouette" and has been translated over from French lyrics. It is a nursery rhyme that little kids usually sing all the time like Humpty Dumpty, but I honestly have no idea why. It's really creepy.**

**5: "Lithelacinth" (Lï - tha - lā - kīnth) is actually a combination of three names. The first is Ligia, which originated in Greece and has a meaning of "beautiful voice." Hyacinth is the second one which also originated in Greece and means "purple flower." In myths it sprouted from the blood of Hyacinthus, who was accidentally killed by Apollo. The third and final name is Ethelinda, one it's meanings is an old English variation of a German name derived from athal "noble" and lindi "snake." The other meanings are similar. For example: the Teutonic one means "intelligent," "trickster," "temptress," and "snake." Her name is also a hint on her identity.**


	6. Chapter 6

Nyx: Okay, when I say I will have a chapter up in a few days, that can mean three days to three weeks. Oops?

Aida: She failed her math test~! *throws confetti*

Nyx: I did not! Okay, well, I most likely did. *sulks*

Aida: Also, she said that Peyton had a brother and a sister, when she really meant she had TWIN BROTHERS. BOYS.

Nyx: Hehe, oops?

Aida: KhaalidaNyx does not own PJO, tLH, tSoN, or any additional characters. She only owns background OC's, Peyton, and Lithelacinth. Does anyone know who the creepy, mysterious girl is yet?

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Sneak Peek!

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People tended to portray Percy as a flawless, fearless leader that would lead them out of victory, and he hated it. How could they so easily forget that he was their age and younger? That he had a family and friends, and had feelings too? Was he just something they could label as they wanted? Every death that happened, Percy felt like a knife had been stabbed into his gut and twisted a little deeper. People were willing to die for him without a second thought, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

Now, in no way was he claiming he was perfect. He had made mistakes like everyone else, but what he regrets the most was how he treated his little sister, Peyton.

When he first found her he was walking home from school, his backpack slung over his shoulder and mentally rejoicing that there was only two weeks left of torment. Snarling and hissing in a nearby alleyway alerted him that something was wrong, then he recognized the familiar jeers of monsters. Piqued, he pulled his familiar pen—Riptide—out of his pocket and lightly jogged to where the noises were. His stomach twisted nervously and his heart pounded harder at the sight.

They were clearly surrounding some poor demigod, but they were too close together to see who they were or what they looked like.

"Thissss one issss mine," an emperosia hissed darkly. "Her sssscent almosssst exceedsss that blasssted sssson of Poseidonsss."

So it was a girl? Percy tensed his legs and prepared to launch at a moments notice, his body becoming even more rigid when he was mentioned.

"No!" the other snake women snarled. "We sssshare! Her flessssh ssshould be mossst filling."

The hellhound barked in agreement.

"Sssso, young one, how would you like to die?" The monsters gave a vicious laugh.

"Wh—who are you?" the hidden girl stammered and Percy mentally awarded her points for managing to keep her voice relatively level.

"Ahh, sssso you do not know?" the most talkative monster hissed. "Then how is your sssscent sssso ssstrong? No matter. I am a monssster from mythsss. Fear me, daughter of a god! We exisssst to kill heroesss!"

After that he waisted no time springing into action, slashing and twirling, ignoring their jeers as he sent them back to Tartarus. Turning around, he came face-to-face with one of the most pitiful sights he had ever seen.

The girl—at least he guessed from what the monsters had told him, he really couldn't tell—had a large gray sweater on that was several sizes too big for her and the sleeves were rolled up to her wrists to fit correctly, revealing her pale, bony arms to the world. The hood was drawn over her head and over a baseball cap that hid her eyes from view. The jeans had tears from falling all over them and the bottoms dragged on the ground, torn and covered in dried mud. Her visible features were so pale that if she wasn't standing on her own he would have thought she was dead. Her nails were chewed and dirty, even more so than the rest of her.

Without warning she sprung forward as fast as he could blink and pulled him into a hug that left him blue in the face. It took him a moment to register that she was sobbing into his shoulder—he just now noticed that he was a half a head taller than her, which was strange because he was already a bit below average height—but when he did notice he hesitantly wrapped an arm around her back while the hand that held Riptide hung limply at his side.

"I—I—I w—was so—hic—scared." Her body shook from crying and she clutched tightly onto his shirt as if it was her lifeline. A strange sense of brotherly protection sparked in him.

"Come on, lets take you somewhere safe," he said gently.

He had carted her off to Camp Half-Blood with a quick Iris-Message to his mom, fully intent on dropping her off and going back home, maybe staying an hour or two at most to make sure she didn't have any serious injuries and settled in fine.

Only it didn't happen like that.

She got claimed—daughteroftheseagod—and his world suddenly turned upside down.

Sure, he had always known his dad was a god and they went around having kids with mortals, but he had never really thought that Poseidon would cheat on his mom. Foolish? Maybe. But he had been going off the knowledge how Poseidon had always talked about Sally so fondly and called her a queen, most beautiful amongst mortals—he offered to build her a palace for Tartarus' sakes! He had never really thought...

...never really thought that Poseidon could actually side another child with a mortal...

...and yet the living proof was right in front of him, desperately clinging to his arm in fright, like he would save her from the critical eyes, harsh sneers, and disbelieving whispers...

But...

...but...

He didn't.

As soon as it finally registered in his mind—Ihaveasister—he turned tail and ran, taking his muddled emotions out on every monster that came across his path in simple furious slashes. Cowardly? Maybe. But he just found out that his dad wasn't as loyal as he seemed.

He—that man—Percy refused to think of him as his father right now—had betrayed his mom. Him. Them.

What would he tell his mom? Would he say anything at all?

Those thoughts driving him forward, he stomped back to his cabin, ignoring the insistent cries of campers that wanted to know about how he felt, if he knew that girl was his sister already, et cetera, et cetera.

He slammed the door behind him and sighed in a mixture of annoyance and anger, closing his eyes and running a hand through his hair.

A squeak of terror made his eyes snap open, just in time to see a dirty, scrawny person in dirty clothes spin around, their knee length black hair following the motion. He figured it would be really pretty hair if it was washed—he didn't really know, but Annabeth was very adamant about keeping her hair in prime condition and proved that long hair wasn't as easy to take care of as he had originally believed—but right now it was in need of some serious washing, a steel brush, and mounds of shampoo and conditioner. The loose curls were tangled in ratty knots and it was sticking up everywhere, mud caked into the raven locks.

They leapt backwards, spinning in mid-air making it impossible for their face to be seen, and promptly fell into the water fountain that he used to Iris-Message people (and gods), knocking it backwards along with them and it broke on the floor, spilling water into the floor of the cabin.

The person frantically scrambled to keep their face hidden and raised a pale arm to pull their over-sized hood up, hiding their face from view while he tried to rein in his quickly growing anger.

"Percy," a very familiar, very unwelcome voice yelped before they faced him again, their face obscured by shadows. "Wh—wh—are you okay?"

Percy released a long breath, shaking in anger. His method of contacting his fa—Poseidon was now gone, he'd have to go to his palace to wrangle an answer out of the sea god.

"Nothing," he said sharply before swiftly exiting the cabin, missing the hurt expression on the girl's face.

He half-jogged, half-stomped down to the beach, picking up a rock and throwing it strongly into the water, the gray mass sinking below the restless waves.

"Come on, Poseidon!" Percy said, livid. "You owe me an explanation!"

Nothing.

With a cry of frustration, he tossed another rock into the water.

Suddenly feeling as if all the energy had been sucked out of his body, he sat on the soft sand just before the shore and sobbed.

"Percy," a soft, strong voice said, followed by a hand on his shoulder.

The son of the sea god didn't bother to respond to his father's voice.

"What's wrong, son?"

Percy snapped. "What's wrong? Maybe I just found out that my dad cheated on my mom!"

Poseidon's face contorted into pure confusion. "What?"

Percy furiously ran a hand through his shaggy raven locks. "My sister that you just claimed."

Unexpectedly a look of pure horror appeared onto Poseidon's face. "What's her name?"

A chord of confusion was struck in Percy, but he answered anyway. "Peyton."

The god's face drained of color and a horror struck look came into his eyes that now looked like a raging sea during a storm. "No," he whispered. "Not here. They said she would just watch—"

"Poseidon," a smart voice cut off the sea god's frantic words, "that is enough."

Both men of the sea looked over to see a gray eyed, blonde haired woman in a Greek chiton standing stiffly not three feet away, a warning look on her face.

"Athena," Poseidon said, obviously outraged. He stood up from where he was crouching next to his son and faced the goddess of wisdom with an angered look on his face. "Did you know about this?"

"Of course," she responded primly. "It is her job, after all."

"And when she finds out?" Poseidon demanded. It wasn't very obvious unless you knew what to look for, but no matter how well she hid her emotions, her eyes were an open book. They were filled with pure terror.

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Wait, wait, wait," Percy said, now standing next to his dad. Both gods looked at him like they had forgotten he was there. "I just wanted to know why he—" he jabbed a thumb at Poseidon while keeping his sea green eyes on Athena "—cheated on my mom."

"I didn't cheat on—"

"That is none of your concern—"

They started at the same time.

"Hush, Athena," the elder god demanded. "Percy, I didn't cheat on your mother. I have had no other demigod children other than you in decades."

Pure confusion enveloped the teen. "But you claimed—"

"I did not claim her," Poseidon cut off with a directed glare towards a certain wisdom goddess.

"So, wait," Percy said. "Peyton's not your kid?"

Poseidon shifted awkwardly. "Well, I wouldn't say that—"

"Quiet, you insolent fool!" Athena snarled, eyes burning. "You took an oath the day you took her from there that day, and if you fail to keep your promises the Fates will serve justice!"

"So is Peyton my sister or not?" Percy demanded, irritated that the gods were ignoring him. He just wanted to know: Did Poseidon cheat on his mom or not?

"Er," Poseidon began awkwardly, heavy guilt lacing his voice, "that is to say—"

Athena elbowed him roughly in the stomach, effectively cutting off his words and making him cough in surprise.

"Yes," Athena said coldly, not a hint of sympathy in her voice. "The girl known as Peyton Shahar is your sister."

Things only went downhill from there.

The gods left and Percy felt like someone had crushed his heart in their hands.

He didn't start talking to her until a week before she was attacked by Lynzee, a demigod from the Demeter cabin. He still remembered how she looked, tiny and lifeless in the lumpy infirmary bed, the white sheets drowning her already small form and making her look even younger. All his emotions had surfaced at once he felt like an emotional volcano.

Guilt. Regret.

Spite. Hatred.

Worry. Concern.

Protectiveness. Loyalty.

But she had forgiven him when he apologized for not being the best brother in the world, shrugging it off with a smile and making him laugh. She had even forgiven Lynzee with a soft smile on her face.

Then came the quest. He had actually been afraid for her when the battle of the Labyrinth came onto the surface. What if she got hurt?

Now he was fighting in an army, trying to defend Olympus.

And Peyton was dying in his arms.

"A—at least you're safe," she choked out, eyes closed. A mouthful of blood stained her lips and chin, some even darkening her hood.

"No," he whispered helplessly, tears running down his face as he looked at his dying sister in his arms.

"Yes," she whispered back. "And you'll forget." She paused, coughing up more blood and when she spoke again her voice was fainter. "Just like... everyone else."

This had to be a nightmare. A terrible, horrible nightmare where he would wake up in cold sweat and Peyton would be there to make jokes and comfort him until he forgot about all his problems.

But no.

This was real.

She was dying.

His little sister Paisl—

He cut off the train of thought, alarmed. What was her name again? Padma? No, Peyton. How could he forget his own sister's name? They had done lots of stuff together, hadn't they? He had found her and brought her to camp by... by...

A collage of memories fluttered across his mind before it was wiped blank.

Who was the girl in his arms?

His heart saddened by the loss of another camper.

They were going to have to make so many shrouds when they got back to camp...

Gently setting her down—it was a girl, right?—he moved on and continued with the battle.

He really hated war.

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THE END

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WOO-HOO! I'm dropping clues like dandruff here, people! Okay, so maybe that's not a very good analogy, but still.

I feel like it was too rushed, but oh well.

I am in need of a beta! Any offers?

Review!

Sorry if the characters will be a bit OOC. On Sunday I'll have a chapter of CF up!


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello! Sorry I haven't updated in so long! I'm in Italy right now because my grandpa is sick and I'll probably be here for another two weeks L Here's a quick songfic! It's hard to get a hold of computers here! **

**Call Me B-E-A-U-Tiful, Megan Nicole**

**_She read me the note he left on her bed_**

**_Snuck in her room right after she left_**

**_And put petals on the ground_**

Annabeth giggled and read Peyton the note that she found after her archery class, a happy, love-sick smile on her face. The hooded girl's mask was back up, a smile feeling tighter than normal tugging at her own lips.

Some part of her _resented_ the blonde daughter of Athena, because she _knew_ Annabeth was taking up all of her brother's time and he barely glanced her way anymore. But that's how she _wanted_ it, _wasn't it?_ To make him happy and not have to worry about her when there was a big war looming over their heads.

Sometimes though… She just wished _someone_ would care for her like Percy did for Annabeth. They were both too shy and stubborn to fully admit their feelings, but Peyton prayed to the Fates she would be able to see them at least start their relationship.

Most likely not, though. She only had a year and a half left.

Silently she marveled at how fast time had gone by, and recalled the day when the Fates came to her two years ago and warned her that she would die right before her birthday, by a friend. That wasn't a very comforting thought.

Ignorance really_ was_ bliss. She wondered if this is what her brother felt like whenever he got a prophecy.

She thought he was lucky though, since the Fates themselves didn't appear to him and say, _"Oh, by the way, you'll die when you reach sixteen. Have a nice life!" _

He could still _live_. It was _definitely_ a possibility. Something that Peyton was _determined_ to make happen.

**_Her head on his shoulder they walk down the hall_**

**_I'm left to wonder will I ever fall in love_**

**_And where is he now_**

Peyton silently followed Annabeth and Percy with her hands stuffed in her new jeans. It was the beginning of the school year and right when Sally had found out about Peyton she demanded she come home with Percy to have a home. It was the most loved she had since, well, ever.

Ms. Jackson _("Sally, sweetheart, call me Sally or mom."),_ as Peyton called her, made her feel welcome and loved. At first Peyton had been scared to meet her since she thought her brother's mother may resent her for having her old lover as a father, but she was shocked stiff when Sally had enveloped her into her warm arms and fussed about her state of dress and having a place to stay.

When Annabeth – she was starting to _really hate_ that daughter of Athena – had shown up out of the blue to go to a movie with Percy, Sally had shoved fifteen dollars _each_ into her _and _Percy's hands before coaxing them out the door.

Now Peyton was stuck behind the thick-headed duo in the hall as they walked to their seats and watched Annabeth playfully shove Percy before grabbing his hand and laying her head on his shoulder, then pulling back as if he had burned her when she realized what she had done.

Resentment burned in Peyton's chest and tears pricked her eyes, making her quickly look away from the two demigods. She hated it because she _knew_ _no one_ would _ever _care for _her_ like they cared for each other, and it hurt. It _hurt_ so _badly_ she cried herself to sleep sometimes because of it. How could the Fates be so _cruel_ as to make that happen to her? Not even her own father loved her! He had left her to get eaten by monsters in the streets, not even having the decency to face her after when she needed him most.

She would have forgiven him in a heartbeat, but her forgiveness was slowly but surely turning into hatred for the gods.

If only she had someone there to hold her and smile at her when she cried, she knew she would follow the gods without hesitation. Now the only thing keeping her on their side was Percy.

And watching him and Annabeth playing tug-of-war with their feelings made Peyton so frustrated she just wanted to hit them both upside the head and say, "You love each other, we get it. Now kiss already!"

And yet…

And yet she didn't want to loose her brother, and she was afraid that when they discovered their feelings for each other, she'd loose him completely.

**_She's with him, I'm in the back seat_**

**_Know it's not right but it hurts when they're laughing_**

**_And I've never been where they are_**

Peyton watched with sad, envious eyes as Annabeth and Percy laughed, the daughter of Athena practically sitting in Percy's lap she was so close. Sally was driving the car and smiling at the two demigod's antics. Peyton's mask was on full force as she giggled at her brother and his crush, but inside it felt like monsters used her heart as a punching bag.

She would never have anyone care for her like that, and she knew it.

**_I wanna be blown away_**

**_I wanna be swept off my feet_**

**_I wanna meet the one who makes it hard for me to breathe_**

**_I wanna be lost in love_**

**_I wanna be your dream come true_**

**_I wanna be scared of how strong I feel for you_**

**_Just call me beautiful, _**

**_Call me beautiful_**

**_Call me beautiful, _**

**_Call me b-e-a-utiful_**

Strangely, Peyton had never been called beautiful by anyone, and it hurt. It was foolish and she knew it, since the reason she wore a hood was so that people wouldn't judge her on her looks, but it still was painful to think that she couldn't trust anyone with what she looked like, lest they treat her differently.

When she had time, she would daydream about being normal. It was every demigod's dream, but she practically ran on the hope that one day she might be able to be loved like everyone else.

**_Friday night she wore his jersey to the game_**

**_In the front row screamin out his name_**

**_As he turns to her and smiles_**

**_Every where I look people holding hands_**

**_When am I gonna get my chance at love_**

**_My chance at love_**

Even on the battlefield people were still in love and holding hands while they slew monsters and enemy demigods.

"Percy!" Annabeth screamed in fear.

Hearing her, Peyton's brother quickly spun and impaled the monster that wanted to make him lunch, and gave Annabeth a heart-breaking smile to let her know he was okay. Envy struck a chord deep within her heart when he didn't even glance at her before going back into the battle, and for the millionth time wished someone would hold her.

Of course she was scared of this war, even though she didn't show it. No matter how many times she told herself she was, she wasn't ready to die. She had been crying herself to sleep silently for weeks now and terror often took hold of her because she knew exactly when she was going to die. Would anyone remember her when she did?

**_Cuz she's with him, I'm still hurting_**

**_Try to pretend but it's not working_**

**_I just wanna be where they are_**

Couples from camp were everywhere, holding hands, kissing, whispering reassurances to eachother.

Peyton Shahar really hated it.

"Sucks, doesn't it?" Selena asked, sitting beside her.

The daughter of Poseidon looked at her somewhat-friend with shocked eyes. She hadn't heard her approach.

The pretty daughter of Aphrodite gestured to the couples. "It sucks to know that won't be me."

Peyton turned her eyes back to the scene. "At least you knew what it felt like," she whispered before walking away.

**_I wanna be blown away_**

**_I wanna be swept off my feet_**

**_I wanna meet the one who makes it hard for me to breathe_**

Peyton pressed her lips tightly together to keep from screaming out how _unfair_ this was. Why was it that no matter _where_ she went, people would just ignore or torment her? She reached up and fingered the brim of her hat, thinking about pulling it off.

_Maybe if I just . . . _

She dropped her hand, angry at her own thoughts. Life was unfair, she got it. Why couldn't she be normal again? If she had her hood up, no one looked twice at her. If she had it down . . .

_I'm so stupid,_ she mentally scolded herself. _Jealousy is getting to me. I have a job to do, and I can't fail._

**_I wanna be lost in love_**

**_I wanna be your dream come true_**

**_I wanna be scared of how strong I feel for you_**

**_Just call me beautiful, _**

**_Call me beautiful_**

**_Call me beautiful, _**

**_Call me b-e-a-utiful_**

**_My heart is waiting for your love_**

**_My hand is waiting for your touch_**

**_My lips just wanna be kissed by you_**

**_I wanna be blown away_**

**_I wanna be swept off my feet_**

**_I wanna meet the one who makes it hard for me to breathe_**

**_I wanna be lost in love_**

**_I wanna be your dream come true_**

**_I wanna be scared how strong I feel for you  
Just call me beautiful, _**

**_Call me beautiful_**

**_Call me beautiful, _**

**_Call me b-e-a-utiful_**

Peyton closed her eyes, feeling the life slip from her body.

No one had held her hand.

No one had ever kissed her.

No one had ever told her they loved her, sibling love or other.

No one had called her beautiful.

So why was she so excited to leave?

_"Sister!"_

**A/N: I'M SO CRUEL~! Alright, I need your guy's help! Suggestions for the fic, and WHO IN HADES SHOULD PEYTON BE PAIRED WITH?!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi! Here's the next chapter! Thanks so much you guys for being so patient! And thank you for the reviews! **

**NiX Readaholic17, I apologize, but I am about to break your heart in this chapter even further.**

**Now... this is a chapter where Peyton meets a character given to me by sonofthetrigod. His name is Josh Adams and he is a son of Pluto. Now, I really like in the PJO and tHoO series how Hades/Pluto was the only one who didn't break the vow, and I think that reflects a lot on his character and shows how loyal he is, so Josh in this is going to have escaped from the Underworld... Which you will be able to see in the next oneshot I publish. This plot is about to have a lot more drama in it, and you might want to know things in here because it goes with the Childhood Friend story and there is a lot of hints and things I won't repeat in here.**

**Big hugs and lots of thanks to all fans and people who reviewed/followed/PMed/added me to your favorites! I really appreciate all the support and it really does make me want to update faster. So... Enjoy! Tell me what you think of it, yeah?**

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**The Wronged Princess Meets the Escaped Prince**

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—es stung, but they felt dry. Her throat was tight with something akin to fear and another the same as overwhelming sadness. With the war quickly approaching, she seemed to have realized just what it was she was loosing.

It was the school year, and Peyton was thirteen. Sally had asked_—demandedbutshecared—_if Peyton wanted to stay with them for the school year, so now the hooded teen was staying with her half-brother and his mom. It was...fun. Sally had taken her shopping a few days after she had stayed in the small, homey apartment, and bought her a few outfits to have. She was wearing one of them right now. A rich, thick royal blue sweatshirt and its hem went a few inches above the middle of her thighs since it was a few sizes too big, and she had rolled up the sleeves to her wrists. A tight white t-shirt that just brushed her hips was under the hood, the soft cotton resting comfortably against her skin. Thick black leggings served to cover her legs, outlining how thin she really was. On her feet were gray boots that went a few inches below her knees, thick, fuzzy socks underneath them to keep her feet warm.

It was...nice, having someone care about whether she got food or not, or was comfortable, or feeling okay. Undeniably strange, of course, but not in a bad way. Nothing good never_—allgoodthingsmustcometoanend—_lasted, though. She should have known better than to think otherwise.

Three months into her stay at the Jackson household, she noticed something. Nothing big or life changing; in fact, there was just little things. Like how Percy and his mom constantly exchanged looks like they wanted to say something to one another, but felt like they couldn't, because she was around. Or how tense they constantly seemed whenever she walked into a room. She felt foolish_—stupidlittlegirlcan'tgetanythingright—_of how she hadn't noticed before. Because the hard truth was: no matter how much Sally or Percy reassured her that she was fully welcome into their home, she was imposing in on them. The war was coming soon, and everyone was scared, the Jackson's included.

_Glad I had a family that will care about me when I'm gone,_ she couldn't help but think sarcastically, bitter about her predicament. _Oh, wait, I don't. _Her heart ached. _What would it be like, she couldn't help but wonder, to have someone care about me?_

It was just wishful thinking, and she knew it. There was no way it could ever happen, because—_  
_

_"You will perish on the eve of your fourteenth birthday, and the prince of the sea shall forget you."_

_"Others will only vaguely recall you in passing."_

_"The only ones to truly remember you and not understand why others forgot will be Lynzee, daughter of Demeter—"_

_"The twins of Hermes, Travis and Conner Stoll—"_

_"The daughter of Athena, Annabeth Chase—"_

_"The Aphrodite cabin—"_

_"The Hephaestus cabin—"_

_"And the clear-sighted mortal, Rachel Dare."_

_"All others shall not remember."_

_"But the Morpheus cabin shall dream of you."_

_"It is the way things must be."_

_"You, Peyton Shahar, are destined to die."_

_"There is no other way."_

_"You are an abnormality in this world, until you regain your memories, and take your rightful place as the unum deterioratus, you must_ leave."

Peyton couldn't get the words of Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos_—thethreeFates—_out of her head. A few blissful months ago, she had forgotten all the words they had said, and she was able to focus on Percy's health and well-being. But it came back with a vengence_—someonemakethenightmaresstop—, _and the daughter of the sea's dreams were constantly haunted by the sight of a fraying green thread being cut and the Fates sitting there repeating their words from long ago. Many times she had woken up screaming_—don'tmakePercyworry—_but thankfully her voice was muffled by the pillow on her bed, and others she had run to the bathroom and gagged above the open toilet, trying to throw up, but having nothing in her stomach to empty.

Early that morning around five, after having the same dream, she had quickly and quietly gotten dressed before writing a note that told them not to worry and she would be back around six in the afternoon, but to take the day for she left.

She pick-pocketed people she passed_—atalentshehadlearnedfromlivingonthestreets—_and got herself money for a bus ride and food. The hooded teen didn't know where she was right now, nor did she exactly care. After a few minutes of walking she came upon an abandoned amusement park on an empty road and easily hopped the tall, barbed fence to get inside. Roaming around, her eyes scanned all the rides that were crusted with rust and had peeling paint. It was empty and serene, despite the fact that the tall rides were casting imposing shadows on the ground. To the teen it felt homey and comforting, and she was even able to ignore the chilly late November air that bit into her skin.

Then an idea popped into her head when she saw a certain ride.

It was maybe a hundred and sixty feet tall, and one of its highest points stretched over a still lake, creating a magnificent scene. Walking over to it, she placed her hands on the rusted metal, the cold feel of it immediately seeping into her skin and making a shiver creep down her back. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling, she started to climb. And climb, and climb, and climb. The teenage girl didn't stop until she was directly over the lake, on one of the highest points on the ride, and shakily sat down. Peyton's feet dangled above the lake and she felt light-headed whenever she looked down. Taking an uneasy breath, she ran a hand through her hair and gripped one of the many metal bars with her other hand.

_Come on,_ she mentally coaxed herself, _you want to know, don't you? You want to experience that feeling Percy always tells you about when he touches water. You can do this. Why fear water when your dad is the god of the sea? You haven't touched even a puddle since you were claimed. If Percy can jump off an Arch thousands of feet in the air, why can't you do this?_

Mind made up, she slowly unclenched her hand from the cool bar and leaned forward, trying to ignore how her vision swam when she looked at the lake far below. Then she slipped off.

A scream was unwillingly ripped from her lips as she turned in the air. The air turned from cold to freezing as it whipped around her and bit into her skin, making her feel—

.

.

—frustrated. Her feet slid into a ready position and she gripped the handle of her sword tighter. "You have caused so many deaths. Your reign of terror ends here."

The person in front of her smiled. A metal mask went over their face and covered part of her nose. Intricate designs of snakes were carved into the metal, disturbingly realistic-looking. The top of the mask went over the top of their head, leaving their curly black hair to spill out of the bottom. A red cape was draped over their shoulders, almost touching their ankles. A silver breastplate covered part of their torso with a short black toga that reached above their knees underneath. A silver bracelet in the design of a snake was wrapped around their bicep and black leather sandals were on their feet, going halfway up their shins.

The person was a girl. And she couldn't have been more than fifteen.

"Oh," she said, voice holding a mocking lit, "and you will stop me?" The girl took out a beautiful black scythe with silver designs, and she fought the urge to shiver at the sight of the terrifying weapon.

"If I must," she replied with conviction. "My Persian armies are marching towards Rome as we speak. Your soldiers will be cut down and your mighty land shall fall. You have lost, Wicked One. You may be skilled at manipulating others, but I am a decade and two years older than you. I have more experience and knowledge of battle."

The girl in front of her just giggled and twirled a strand of her perfect, silky black hair around her finger with her free hand, her head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side. "Dear princess of Persia," she chastised, "you should know that all things are not always as they appear to be. Please, amuse me. Do your best to fight me and see what happens. My entertainment has been quite low as of late and I am just _dying_ to have something remotely interesting happen."

With a battle cry, she lunged.

The fight carried on for no more than thirty seconds with her viciously slashing when she noticed that the small girl in front of her was hardly even trying to fight, yet she managed to block her strikes with ease.

_Impossible,_ she thought, a nervous sweat breaking out onto her forehead. _I'm using all my best moves on her!_

"I grow tired of our dancing," the girl drawled. Without warning she suddenly gracefully jumped over head head, elegantly twirling in the process before landing behind her. Before she even had a chance to turn around the girl grabbed her shoulder in a vice-like grip and held the blade of her weapon to her throat. "Say hello to my nephew for me, will you?"

With that the blade sliced across her throat, a sickening—

.

.

—_splash!_ as her body hit the water at an awkward angle, Peyton's clothes and form getting soaked with ice-cold water. She thrashed around in the deep water as she sunk lower, eyes wide with fright.

_This isn't right!_ she managed to think through her panic. _This isn't what Percy described! I don't feel stronger! The water is crushing me! I'm going to drown!_

Her lungs were burning for oxygen and her eyes stung. The hooded girl tried kicking up to get to the surface, but she had never swam before, and only managed to thrash around more as her vision slowly started blurring around the edges.

_Help! Please help me! _

This wasn't right. Was she—

.

.

—cursed," the goddess stated flatly. Her gold jewelry glittered and her spotless white toga was pooled around her feet.

The teen gawked at her. "Wh—wh—th—that can't be right! I—I—"

"Oh, stop stuttering," Athena said, cutting her off and rolling her gray eyes. "It's a fact. You are an abnormality in this world, Peyton Shahar. By all means, you should be rotting in the Underworld, but for some reason the counsel saw fit to bring you back." She lifted her nose into the air haughtily. "I, of course, eventually agreed, with the knowledge that you would suffer from this."

Tears burned her eyes. "What have I done to you to make you hate me so much?"

"Hopefully you will never find out," Athena stated, looking down on her like she was less than the dirt on her shoes. "But if you do, Fates help us all."

Peyton's throat felt tight and her eyes stung. "What do you mean by—"

"In the meantime," the goddess of wisdom said, cutting her off like she had never spoken in the first place, "you should know that you have been cursed. You will not be able to touch water without fear, nor will you be able to control it like the son of Poseidon does."

"Wh—who cursed me?" Peyton managed to choke out, shocked.

A smirk curved at Athena's lips as she said one word that tore Peyton's whole world apart.

"Poseidon."

The teenage demigod was still processing the words while Athena had a positively gleeful look on her face.

"Now, you'd better wake up before you drown. Don't want you to—"

.

.

"—please, _please,_ don't die on me!" There was a fast pressure up and down on her chest on her sternum. A few seconds after she felt one of her ribs crack before something touched her parted lips, making her eyes fly open in shock. Her arms flew up and pushed the person on her away before she turned on her side and coughed up water, body heaving as she took air into her starved lungs.

"Thank the gods!" said a person behind her. "I mean—oh, never mind. I thought you were _dead!_ I was just walking and I saw you fall into the water and I went to get you when you didn't come up, I went to get you. Then you weren't breathing and I did CPR but I could_ feel_ your life force slippi—you weren't waking up and I didn't know what to do."

Peyton turned over and came face-to-face with something that took her breath away.

A boy around her age, maybe a year older sat there on his knees, water dripping from his black hair that was stuck to his head and the sides of his face. It was the length that couldn't be considered too short or short but long enough he could run his fingers through it in a nervous gesture and spike it up. His skin was pale_—translucentreallylikeaghost—_and his eyes were an interesting assortment of blue, gray, and silver. A hue of blues surrounded his pupil, gray was the base color, and silver flecks were entwined with it all. Water ran down from his hair and caught onto his black lashes before they continued their journey, running down his cheeks. His short-sleeved black shirt was stuck to his shoulders and torso, outlining his muscles that made it really hard for Peyton not to stare. He was clearly still developing since he was in his teens, but he had enough muscle to be fit. Black jeans clung to his legs and black sneakers were on his feet.

Looking around, the hooded girl noticed that she was on cement now, far from the lake. With a blush creeping up her neck, she realized he must have carried her here, but then the thought was immediately smashed when she realized why he had to.

She had almost drowned.

Apparently she was no daughter of Poseidon after all.

_Cursed._

Without thinking Peyton let out a strangled sob and wrapped her arms around the boy's neck, pulling him in for a tight hug while she cried into the junction between his neck and shoulder, her body shaking. He went stiff for a few moments before he slowly and awkwardly patted her back. Pulling back, the hooded teen blushed when she realized that she was just showed a huge moment of weakness towards a stranger, and sat back while wiping the tears away with the backs of her hands.

The boy awkwardly regained his composure and mimicked her cross-legged position on the ground. Now that the girl thought about it, he had the "don't mess with me" pose and the dangerous air about him. When he thought she was dead it must have been a rare moment of weakness for him, too.

"I'm Josh, by the way," he suddenly said, breaking the heavy silence that had befallen the pair. "Josh Adams."

The hooded teen gave him a small nod as she reached up and tried to fix her hat that sat crookedly on her head. A piece of her curly hair had fallen down into her face, but she paid it no mind. "I'm Peyton Shahar."

"So," he said, his body lightly shaking from the combination of the freezing water they had just been in and the cold breeze that was softly blowing through, "mind telling me why you were up on that thing anyway? Or is that private information?"

Thinking for a moment, Peyton tried to ignore the way her body was shaking heavily from the cold. "I... I wanted to _prove_ something. I guess I just... didn't think it through, because I never considered drowning a possibility."

His eyebrows were raised with her statement, but he made no comment, which the daughter of the sea was grateful for.

"What were _you_ doing here?" the hooded girl suddenly asked, then slapped her hands over her mouth when she realized what she said. "I'm sorry! You just saved my life and—and I'm here—"

"It's okay," Josh suddenly said, cutting her off. His lips were tilted up in an amused half-smile, half-smirk. "I just wanted to be alone to think. Good thing, too," he added as an afterthought.

Once again, Peyton found herself blushing. Wow, I'm doing this a lot lately, huh? "I'm not normally like that—um—"

"Suicidal?" he offered.

"Uh, yeah," the pale, hooded girl said uncomfortably, tugging on the sleeves of her sopping sweatshirt.

"It's okay," he said, eyes guarded and posture controlled. "Everyone has moments where they break."

With an unseen, furious blush on her cheeks, Peyton bit out, "I did _not_ break."

He gave her a disbelieving look in response. "Uh huh."

"I didn't!" she insisted, as to which he gave a disbelieving noise. Huffing, the hooded teen crossed her arms in annoyance and looked away from him stubbornly. "Whatever. I don't care what you believe, anyway." To her astonishment, he gave her an understanding look and his eyes softened slightly.

"You remind me of someone I use to know," he muttered as way of explanation, looking down.

"Oh," she said softly, "w—who was it?"

"My sister," he said after a brief pause.

"Family?" she blurted out before she could stop herself. When he looked up at her sharply, a blush of humiliation stained her face. "I—I'm sorry! It's just... I wondered... what it would be like. Family."

His face creased softly in confusion. "You don't know what having a family is like?"

"I—I—" she stuttered, eyes burning with unshed tears as she remembered her past.

_"Where am I?"_

_"Hello, my name is A'ala Olman. I'm a doctor here."_

_"Doctor? Why do I—"_

_"Please, save the questions for later. Right now I am only authorized to tell you that you are in a morgue. It's where people go when they die. You woke up here while we were examining you earlier. You have no known name or family members. We figured you are about seven or eight years old. Please stay seated while I go to get some people who will want to question you._

"...No," she finally admitted, looking down at her lap and dropping his gaze. "Not that I know of, anyway." She looked back up, and to her confusion, it looked like Josh wanted to say something to her that would probably comfort her, but didn't know if he should.

Finally he settled with, "Where do you live? We should get you home. It's freezing out here."

"Oh, um," she said, dragging out the words as she tried to remember her address. "East One-hundred-and-fourth and First."

"That's a long way from here," he noted thoughtfully, but made no further comment. "Okay, let's—

.

.

—come on, girl," the teen drawled, her lips curled into a smirk. She wore a black headdress that hid the top of her head, eyes, and nose from view. A black Asian belly dancer was on her body, but no shoes were on her feet. She appeared to be fifteen or sixteen years old and was very pale.

Feeling irritation well up inside of her, she stood up gracefully. "In case you have forgotten," she stated coldly, "I am older than you are by six years. As your future queen, you are to treat me with respect." She smoothed down her beaded dress that swished about her ankles with a hint of smugness. "Or have you forgotten?"

"Oh, never," the younger girl drawled, folding her arms innocently behind her back, which she knew meant trouble. "I am but a humble servant that is to serve your majesty. A small piece of entertainment, if you will."

"Exactly," she agreed, nodding. "Now address me properly."

Taking an exaggerated bow, she stated, "The show is about to start, my lady. Will you please accompany me to the performance? I taught them all the moves they know, and I can say with no hint of unworthy pride that they are quite good."

Pausing for a moment, she thought about her options, then nodded. "Alright, very well. Servant, announce my presence so that I may be worshiped."

"Of course, my lady," the teen said again, still bowing. Straightening up, she paused and put a slim finger on the side of her jaw near her mouth and made a thoughtful sound. "Oh, and before I forget..."

"What is it now?" she asked in irritation, lifting her chin into the air. "We should be going. I have no with to sit here and talk with the likes of you." Her almond-shaped eyes widened when she blinked, and the black-clad girl in front of her was gone.

Something cool and sharp pressed against her throat, making it sting.

"This is a dagger, my lady," the teen purred happily in her ear. "It was used by your ancestors to do rituals for the gods. They would cut animals and people alike open, spilling their innards onto the dais, claiming they got prophecy's out of it. I wonder if I could get something out of your insides?"

"Y—you are insane!" she stuttered, angry and afraid. "You will not get away with this! I am queen!"

"Yes," the girl said happily, "indeed you are. Worry not, princess-soon-to-be-queen, for I have already taken all the necessary precautions so that your people think it will be the country next to us that killed you."

"You are trying to start a war," the older girl realized in horror.

"Why yes," the teen said happily. "And I have already accomplished it."

"You will not get away with this!" she said furiously, clenching her fists.

"Oh, my queen," the girl holding her captive said in a laughing voice, "I already have."

"Evil servant," she hissed in anger, the feeling of betrayal welling inside her.

The veiled girl in black tsked in disappointment. "You know me as Taakina, but I bet you have even forgotten that. My real name that not many people know of—but you will get the short pleasure of knowing—is Lithelacinth. Now say—

.

.

—goodbye," Josh said, hands in his dark jean pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels. They stood in front of the apartment complex that she was temporarily sharing with the Jacksons.

"Well... thank you," Peyton said, giving him a shy smile.

"No problem," he responded easily.

As she started walking inside, his voice stopped her in her tracks. "Maybe I'll see you again sometime?"

Hesitating, she eventually said, "Yeah." _If I'm not dead by then._ "I'd like that."

"Cool," he said. "Well, bye."

As she watched him walk away with sad eyes, she whispered, "Bye."

* * *

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**Well, did I succeed? Sorry this chapter was kind of rushed -_-. Oh well! Please point out any grammar/spelling/puncuation mistakes to me, and I'll fix them later.**

**Anyone figured out her visions yet?**

**OMGODS! Lithelacinth was in one of Peyton's visions! That evil, demonic little girl is going to be popping up a lot - just so you know. **

**HIT THE REVIEW BUTTON! **

**The next oneshot will be about Josh in the Underworld and how he died, and just more about him in general... Sooooo... yeah. **

**Thanks! Sorry it was so rushed!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Here's the next chapter! I've got some good guesses, but things are going to get very confusing. Hold onto your drachmas, 'cause you are going to be like "WHAAAAAAA?" on many occasions.**

**As I promised, this chapter is going to be about Josh Adams. Before you begin, let me tell you something that you will need to know before you start:**

**Josh was born in the 1800s in Scotland. No, he does not have an accent anymore, so just wipe that thought from your mind. Now, he will have flashbacks in here (a lot like Peyton, actually), but we were are going to start out with one. And a character everyone knows and loves (well, maybe not loves, because she's as creepy as Tartarus) will be in here and take a pretty big part of this chapter. Enjoy, and be sure to give me your thoughts after. I love reviews~~!**

**This chapter is dedicated to sonofthetrigod.**

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**For the Forgotten**

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"Oh, Josh!"

A childish giggle rang throughout the alleyway as the black haired boy grabbed his younger sister's hand and swung it back and forth as they walked, a lopsided grin on his face. He looked to be about six years of age and his sister four.

"C'mon, Cynthia!" he said, tugging her hand softly. "Le's go look a' the sweet shop down the road!"

"Wait for us, loves!" a woman in a simple brown dress laughed, her boots clacking on the cobblestone street as she walked. Following her was a nine year old girl and an eleven year old boy. Looking at them, you would never guess right away that the little boy holding the girl's hand was part of the family. The two girls and the older boy all had the sandy blonde hair and lightly tanned skin of their mother. The boy on the other hand had glossy black hair and incredibly pale skin. The only thing to show that they were all related was the fact that they all had the same unique eyes.

"Josh!" the mother called again when the children didn't slow down. "Wait for me and your siblings!" Panting for breath, she paused and looked at the blonde eleven year old boy, "Isaac, can you get them? I don't want them getting hurt."

"Yes, mom!" he said, running after the giggling pair. Within seconds he was in front of them, blocking their escape.

"Thank you," the mother said with grateful eyes before she looked at her youngest children. "Please stay by me. I can't keep up right now," she chided gently, a hand on her inflated abdomen while she spoke.

The black haired boy looked at his mother's baby bump and shame colored his features. "Sorry, mom. I just wann'ed to show Cynthia the candy shop."

Smiling gently, the mother softly ruffled her youngest son's hair, "It's alright, Josh. Next time, just take Isaac or Elizabeth with you, alright?"

"Okay!" he chirped happily.

"You will have to do it later, though," the blonde woman said. "Right now I have to run some errands and I don't want you wandering off alone. You can visit the shop after and I'll even give you some money to buy some sweets. Does that sound good?"

"Thank you, mom!" he exclaimed happily, throwing his small arms around her legs. "This is going to be the—

.

_._

—spirits of the dead glided along soundlessly, often running into one another as they moved.

The raven haired boy sighed as he surveyed the scene. Still the same as it had been in the past two hundred years. Unwillingly, his eyes strayed to the pain-filled screams that sounded horrific to his right.

_At least it's better than the Fields of Punishment._

Being a child of Pluto, he retained all his memories even after death. It was both a curse and a gift. Especially since he had a photographic memory.

It was a gift, because he could remember things like his little sister's smile and laugh. Or how his older brother always played with him, even when it was unbearable outside because it was so cold. Or his older sister's way of making sure everyone was cared for. Or how his mother never got angry at him, no matter how he had been acting.

Walking with the other hushed spirits of the dead, he glided forward until he came upon one of the many tall, towering, dead trees that lined the Fields of Asphodel. In the first time in many months_—orwasitweeksdecadesoryears?—_he allowed himself to sit down. The feel of the rough bark against his back felt good. To him it felt like he could still _feel,_ and he wasn't completely inhuman.

But at the sound of dead grass crunching underfoot, he looked up.

Something wasn't right here. Spirits of the dead didn't make noise when they walked.

What met his eyes was definitely not what he was expecting.

It was a girl. At first he thought it might be another ghost, but she wasn't see-through like everyone else in the underworld. Her skin was exceedingly pale, but that was it. She wore a short black toga that went a few inches above her knees, and a black cloak that looked to be made of shadows around her shoulders that trailed across the ground. A black mask with silver designs_—likesomethingonewouldwearataball—_outlined her face and covered her eyes and part of her nose from view. Still, as he looked closer, he could tell that she was very beautiful.

As she stood a few feet in front of him, he quickly scanned her to see if he could pick up any clues on her identity.

Her perfect, sleek, black curls were up in an elegant hairdo on her head, silver crystals scattered throughout it and a few stray curls having escaped the hairstyle hung by the sides of her face. Strange black, strappy sandals were on her feet and ended just below her knees. She had no weapons that he could see, but her pale lips were curved in a superior smirk, like she knew something he didn't.

_Is it Aphrodite?_ he wondered, looking at the beautiful girl before him. _She can't be more than fifteen... but gods and goddesses can change their forms..._

"Hello," she said, starting him. When she opened her mouth to speak, it revealed a set of perfectly straight, pearly white teeth. That wasn't what he was looking at thought, oh no. His eyes were wide and fixated on her canines, which were too long to be noticeable unless you were looking exactly at them, but were the sharpest things he had ever seen.

Then he noticed the aura around her. It screamed of death, desolation, and doom. Instinctively he took a step back, fighting the impulse to run. That is when he also noticed that no other spirits were around her. When a hero rarely visited the underworld, the spirits of the dead would always crowd around said living human. Now they were giving this girl a wide berth, as if they too knew that she was not normal.

"You are Josh Adams, correct?" she asked innocently in a musical voice, her lips stretched into a wide grin that revealed her unnatural teeth. Her hands were clasped in front of her.

"That depends," he said slowly, unable to fight the urge to take another step back to put space between them, "on who's asking."

"Oh," she giggled, bringing a hand up to delicately cover her lips as if to hide a smile. "How rude of me. I haven't introduced myself, have I? Well, I can't have everyone knowing I'm around just yet, so you may call me Lithe."

"Okay," he said, legs tensed unless he needed to make a quick escape. "And what exactly do you want?"

She had her hands clasped in front of her again, and although her posture was relaxed, Josh couldn't help but be reminded of a predator stalking its prey. "Looking for you, actually." He could detect a bit of an English accent in her voice.

"Why?" he asked suspiciously. It wasn't every day you die then two hundred years later a beautiful girl shows up and tells you she was looking for you in the Underworld.

"Just a part of my plan," she said dismissively, eyeing him up and down. "Yes, you'll do nicely."

_"What_ plan?" he demanded, getting nervous. He stood up as tall as he could, coming only a few inches above her.

She laughed, the sound beautiful, like tinkling bells. Instead of answering him, she started to sing.

_"Sleep my child and peace attend thee,_  
_All through the night_  
_Guardian angels the gods will send thee,_  
_All through the night_  
_Soft the drowsy hours are creeping_  
_Hill and vale in slumber sleeping,_  
_Hypnos silent vigil keeping_  
_All through the night._

_While the moon her watch is keeping_  
_All through the night_  
_While the weary world is sleeping_  
_All through the night_  
_O'er they spirit gently stealing_  
_Visions of delight revealing_  
_Breathes a pure—"(1)_

"Stop!" he yelled, furious.

Lithe gave him a wide, innocent smile. If he could see her eyes, he would bet money on the fact that she was batting her eyelashes.

"Whatever is wrong?" she asked, standing in a casual pose. "Am I not dearest mommy? Is that why I cannot sing that song?"

Josh grit his teeth. "How do you know that song?"

Lithe let out a light, amused laugh that somehow managed to sound beautiful yet malicious at the same time. "I know a lot of things," she said dismissively. "But what should it matter?" She looked around, as if she was searching for something, and hummed thoughtfully. "I so do believe your family is here as well. They never did anything noteworthy in their life now, did they?"

Shaking with anger, the black haired boy clenched his fists. Before he could speak, though, the girl cut him off again.

"Yes," she said delightfully, tilting her head as if listening to something. "They did." Straightening up, she shrugged nonchalantly, "Then again, I'm not surprised. Your mother was treated like a princess until she was married and her cash got drained. Your siblings, on the other hand, weren't anything special and can easily be overlooked—"

"Stop!" he snarled. "What _right_ do you have to _criticize_ them? Why are you even _here?"_

Laughing in delight, Lithe gave him a bright grin and clapped her hands softly, her canines in full view. _"Finally!_ I got a _reaction_ from you. _I_ thought you would be a waste of time. Looks like I owe Chrysaor a drachma. No matter." She tilted her head up just slightly to look at him more fully and the black plastic-like substance covering her eyes in the mask flashed. "As you will find out later, I have every right to _'criticize'_ them, as you so plainly put it. In truth, I am simply stating facts. I do not give praise unless it is deserved."

_Or to manipulate people,_ Josh thought in irritation. This girl seemed like the type to do something like that.

"But onto the matter at hand," she abruptly stated, standing in a professional, business-like pose. "I am offering you a chance at life again. How would you like to leave the underworld?"

_. . . What?_

"Huh?" he stated in confusion, staring at her like she was insane (which was a fair assumption).

The black haired boy had a feeling she rolled her eyes behind her mask. "The world _needs_ you, son of Plades. Err—Pluto. In two years time, there will be a war."

_What the f—_

"During this war, the _great Kronos_ will rise again." She said the "great Kronos" with a considerable amount of sarcasm dripping from her voice. "He is the king of the Titans, if you didn't know already." Taking a pale hand, she lifted her arm up and held up her index finger. "You can help in this war." She held up her middle finger along with it. "You will gain trust, friendship, and a new family." She held up her ring finger along with the other two. "You will have another chance at life." She held up her little finger. "You will be able to learn to protect what you hold dear." Finally, she held up her thumb as well so that he could see he had five reasons. "And you will fall in love."

Josh stood, frozen to the spot as her words penetrated his mind._ A new family. Protect them. But . . . Fall in love? _

"H—how do you know this?" he finally stuttered out.

There was a pause in which he thought she wouldn't answer, but finally her lips stretched into a Cheshire Cat smile. "My father," she said simply. "And it is part of my many . . . talents. So, what do you say? Do you want to live again?"

"What will happen if I don't go?" he challenged with narrowed eyes.

Her smile got impossibly wider in response and the aura around her grew, making him freeze on the spot. "Then more people than necessary will die. The girl you will come to love with will die before her time, drowning as she tries to prove something for herself. That will create a chain reaction in which many heroes will die and the world will fall apart. People you could save in the war will die. See where I am going with this?"

Josh swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat. "I—"

"You don't want to let the people you care about die _again_ when you could do something about it now, do you?" Lithe challenged, her smile gone down to a smirk.

The son of Pluto flinched at her words. "I'll do it."

The black haired girl gave him a wide, flawless grin again. "Good boy." Stretching her hand out, she touched his forehead with her ring finger.

Immediately black spots danced in front of his vision and he swayed on his feet. Before he blacked out, he could have sworn he heard Lithe say:

"Pluto is _not_ going to be pleased. Then again, neither will the rest of the gods . . ."

.

As he wandered around an abandoned amusement park, he thought about how much his life had changed since he met that strange girl. Like she promised, he gained a new family.

Camp Jupiter.

His barracks were now his friends and family, and he quickly learned how to protect them. The black haired boy learned his skills with a sword and bow and arrow. Almost unstoppable with a blade in his hands, he could easily cut down his enemies with little effort and could shoot almost three hundred yards away with a bow and arrow and still get a bulls-eye.

And his talents were still growing.

What irked him, however, was when they held war counsel meetings about the impeding war. Everyone was anxious about when it would begin, thinking that it was going to start any day. Josh, however, knew better. He longed to just shout that it wouldn't be for another year, but it would create complications. People would question him on how he knew and he was not ready to open that can of worms.

What would he say, anyway? _"Oh, well, what you all don't know it that I use to be dead, but escaped with the help of a masked teenage girl that actually told me about the war and how I would fall in love. Anyway, are we doing war games tonight?"_ Yeah, no thanks.

Walking around with his hands in his pockets, the son of Pluto sighed tiredly and ran a hand over his face. Why couldn't life ever be simple for him? His unique eyes scanned the rides, enjoying the silence. Normally he was packed around people, but now there was no one here. What a nice difference from—

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Jumping, he looked at the ride to his left with owlish eyes. It was a tall ride that went above a lake, but . . . Was that someone _falling_ from it?

"HOLY SH—"

_Splash! _

_Yup, someone just fell from that,_ he thought numbly. _And it was a girl, if the screams were anything to go by. Still, I could be wrong . . ._

The black haired boy fixed his eyes on the lake, watching with growing anxiety as no one came up.

_Come on . . . Forty seconds . . . One minute . . . Two minutes . . ._

_"The girl you will come to love will die before her time, drowning as she tries to prove something to herself,"_ Lithe's voice echoed clearly in his mind.

_You have got to be kidding me._

Suddenly his mind caught up to what he had just seen, and he sprang into action. Not caring that he couldn't swim very well (it definitely wasn't on his list of talents. Or things he was remotely good at, either), he somehow cut through the water like it was air and frantically swam around, looking for the girl. When he saw the sinking figure down below, his body reacted before his mind did, and before he knew it he had grabbed her around the waist and swam to the surface of the water, gasping to take air into his starved lungs. Swimming to the edge of the lake, he picked up the motionless girl bridal style and jogged as fast as he could away from the water before setting her down. That is when he noticed something he wondered how he missed earlier.

She wasn't breathing.

"Come on!" he said in disbelief. Quickly he started to administer CPR, but it wasn't working. Her life force was slipping away.

For the first time in many years, he could feel paralyzing panic creeping like ice through his veins.

"No!" he said desperately. "You _can't_ die on me now—I got out of the underworld to save you! Come on, please, _please_ don't die on me!"

As he put his lips on her icy ones to give her another breath of air, hands suddenly were on his chest and shoving him away. His eyes stared at the mystery girl in disbelief as she rolled onto her stomach and coughed up water, shaking like a leaf.

_I don't understand . . . she shouldn't be alive . . . Her life force was_ gone_ . . ._

"Thank the gods!" Josh blurted before he could stop himself. "I mean—oh, never mind. I thought you were _dead!_ I was just walking and I saw you fall into the water and I went to get you when you didn't come up, I went to get you. Then you weren't breathing and I did CPR but I could _feel_ your life force slippi—you _weren't waking up_ and I didn't know what to do."

She turned to face him and Josh was suddenly struck with a horrible feeling of deja vu.

Her face was covered by the shadow of a baseball cap, leaving only her lips and part of her jaw visible. Her skin was exceedingly pale, and the first thought that popped into his mind was:

_Lithe._

Both sat there, frozen, for their own reasons before the girl suddenly launched herself into his arms and started sobbing, her arms wrapped around him and her face buried in the junction between his neck and shoulder. Going rigid, the son of Pluto had absolutely no idea of what to do. He had never had to deal with a crying girl before he died or at Camp Jupiter. After a few seconds, he slowly and awkwardly put his hands on her back as she cried her eyes out. When she pulled back, she seemed to have realized what she had done and looked away shyly.

"I'm Josh, by the way," he suddenly said, breaking the awkward silence that had befallen them as he regained his composure and put his mask back up. "Josh Adams." _But you already know that, don't you?_

She gave him a small nod back as she tried to fix the hat that sat crookedly on her head and was dripping with water, a piece of her curly hair having escaped. "I'm Peyton Shahar."

And that's when it became clear to the son of Pluto that this _wasn't_ Lithe. She may _look_ a bit like her, but her voice was different. Musical, but _different._

And he couldn't have been more relieved.

Now the awkwardness settled into him. How was he suppose to talk to her normally? _"Hey, you don't know me, but I am going to fall in love with you."_

This was going to be an interesting conversation.

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**1: This is a really old Scottish lullaby. It was made in the early 1600s and thrived throughout the 1800s, but it has sort of died out now. I changed a few words to fit the scene, but only little stuff like God to gods—so don't worry; I didn't butcher the song.**

**Pshaw! Sorry this is so crappy! I wrote it in two hours - hazzah! I'll probably come back to fix it later, but for now leave your thoughts!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey, this is a shorter oneshot. I was just thinking: what if after Leo, Jason, and Piper's quest, they were all hanging out with Annabeth, and then they decided to ask the daughter of Athena some questions? It's short, but it is just a little thing to thicken the plot. **

**Enjoy.**

**Oh, and DISCLAIMER! I only own some OC's and part of the plot.**

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**Children of the Big Three**

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"This is nice," Piper commented offhandedly, her hand clasped loosely with Jason's.

The brunette daughter of Aphrodite, the son of Jupiter, the son of Hephaestus, and the daughter of Athena were all sitting on one of the hills overlooking Camp Half-Blood, sitting side-by-side in the grass. They had a perfect view of the camp. The lava wall was in action while campers challenged themselves as they tried to climb it (Leo wondered if anyone had ever fallen off and gotten killed before. It seemed like a genuine possibility), the Big House was repainted just a few weeks ago so the paint was no longer chipped and fading, and it shone a soft blue. To the right were all the many cabins shaped in a giant Greek Omega, and of course the beach that stretched behind them. The dining pavilion and gardens were all in pristine condition, and they were even able to ignore the menacing trees of the forest stalked with monsters that cast imposing shadows upon the ground.

In the first time in a while, Leo could tell that Annabeth felt relaxed. Her gray eyes were softened as she gazed at the scenery, the soft breeze rippling the grass, and her forehead was smooth, instead of creased with worry as it had been for the past few days.

"Hey, Annabeth," Jason said, snapping everyone out from their thoughts. Jason and Leo were the only ones wearing shoes while the girls chose to go barefoot, but Leo could tell from the way Piper's toes curled in the grass that she was anxious. He couldn't blame her. Things had been ridiculously tense lately.

"Hmm?" Annabeth hummed, looking over at the blonde son of Jupiter.

For a second he shifted under the heavy weight of the daughter of Athena's intense gray eyes, but he managed to snap himself out of it and looked back towards the cabins. "You said once that the Big Three made a pact not to have any children after World War II."

"Yes?" Annabeth drawled, raising her eyebrows in question.

"But they broke the pact several times," he continued. "So how many children did they have?"

A small grin tugged at Annabeth's lips as she was obviously encased in past memories. "Not including you, there were five that we knew of."

Jason, Piper, and Leo all had expressions of shock, but the blonde girl continued.

"There were two children of Hades named Nico and Bianca, but they were born before the Big Three made the pact. Hades just hid them in the Lotus Hotel and Casino so that they didn't age, but were protected."

"Were?" Piper asked with wide eyes.

A solemn expression overcame Annabeth's face. "Bianca died on a quest. Nico was distraught at first, of course, but he eventually accepted her death." Seemingly shaking herself out of her unhappy thoughts, she continued, "Then there is Thalia. Maybe you guys can meet her one day, but she is a child of Zeus. I have known her since I was young."

It didn't escape Leo's attention of how Jason tensed slightly when Annabeth said 'Thalia.' He knew that Thalia was Jason's sister, so he figured it was because his blonde friend wanted to know more about her or something along those lines.

"And then . . . there's Percy," the gray eyed girl said in an almost loving voice that made both Jason and Leo raise their eyebrows at the emotion in it, but Piper just looked understanding. "You guys should all know by now that he is the son of Poseidon. Hero of Mount Olympus, slayer of the Minotaur, Retriever of Zeus' lightning bolt and Hades' helm, Retriever of the Golden Fleece, Holder of the Sky, Savior of Artemis, Wanderer of the Labyrinth, Defeater of the Hydra, Bearer of the Curse of Achilles, Defeater of Kronos—"

"Yeah, yeah, we got it," Jason said, looking irritated while both Leo and Piper had expressions of awe.

"Well," Annabeth said, seemingly shocking herself out of her trance and shrugging indifferently, "that's it, I guess."

"Woah, woah, woah," Leo said, looking shocked. "You said there were _five_ children of the Big Three. _You've_ only named_ four_."

Jason and Piper both looked shocked that he caught onto that, but he ignored them and looked at Annabeth, as if to say _'Well?'_

Annabeth cleared her throat awkwardly and shifted uncomfortably. "There _was one_ more . . . but nobody ever talks about her anymore."

"Her?" Both Jason and Leo asked at the same time, for their own reasons. Still, Jason's earned himself a glare from the daughter of Aphrodite.

"Yeah," the blonde older teen said slowly, as if she was unsure of how to word it, "her name was Peyton Shahar, daughter of Poseidon."

Leo furrowed his brow. _That name seemed familiar . . . Where had he heard it before . . . ?_

"You are using past tense again," Jason noted with his shocking blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "So why don't you talk about her? Did she go . . . You know," he said awkwardly.

Annabeth, understanding what he meant to say, gave him a scathing glare. "No, she was not a traitor," she hissed. "She was the most selfless person I have ever met—even surpassing Percy's hardheadedness."

"Was she hot?" Leo asked eagerly, making both Jason and Piper give him looks that conveyed how dense he was. But his question got a reaction out of Annabeth that no one had been expecting.

"I don't know."

"How can you _not know_?" asked Piper, shocking both boys.

"She always had a hood on that covered her face," the gray eyed girl admitted, looking thoughtful. "Even when it was a thousand degrees outside. Percy and her shared a cabin since they were siblings, and he said she even slept with the thing on."

There was a lengthy pause where everyone thought about her words before Leo's very serious case of ADD and ADHD acted up.

"So what happened to her?" he asked.

Annabeth let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through her hair, looking like she was holding back tears. "You cannot tell anyone what I am about to tell you," she said with such seriousness it was shocking. They all quickly nodded in agreement, wanting to know the story. "Well . . . when we were in battle in Manhattan, it was chaotic. But . . . Peyton kept an eye on Percy to make sure he wouldn't get hurt the whole time, even though he had his curse to protect him. Then . . . during battle, someone came up to Percy with a spear."

Piper sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes widened and Leo could tell she put the pieces of the puzzle together already.

"We all got separated," she continued, her voice thick with emotion. "There was a shout, and when I looked back—" Annabeth choked and had to pause for a moment before she continued. "Peyton had pushed Percy out of the way, and there was a spear sticking out of her stomach, going out the other side."

Both Jason and Leo's eyes were now as wide as Piper's as they listened to the horrible tale.

"I can never thank her enough for saving him," Annabeth continued, tears flowing steadily from her eyes. "S—she died in Percy's arms. W—we think that Percy blocked her from his memory to protect himself, because it was so horrible. He didn't remember her afterwards, and it's sort of a taboo subject around here."

". . . Oh," Jason finally managed to say, looking shocked.

"Don't speak of it again," the gray eyed girl warned, looking protective. "She died a hero and was one of the only ones that didn't get horrible rumors spread about her. That's the way it should be."

There was a brief pause, before she said, "It's . . . strange. Sometimes when I say 'Peyton', campers will glare at me for bringing up the touchy subject, while others look at me like I'm insane and they have no idea why I'm saying that name. Almost like they have forgotten. I know it's crazy but I swear it happens." She sighed and looked at the Poseidon cabin, a sad look in her eyes, "I wish Peyton were here. She was always smiling, no matter what anyone said to her, and had an amazing ability to lighten the atmosphere in a room and make everyone laugh. I have never seen her get angry, actually. Not even once. And I know for a fact that her life here wasn't all flowers and rainbows. A lot of campers treated her like trash for a few years, before they eventually accepted her as Percy's sister."

Silence descended once again before Annabeth stood up and said a quick, "Gotta go finish reports," and left.

Leo was deep in thoughts, going through his memories as best he could. Where had he heard that name befo—

_"Hey, Leo? Did you know I had that dream again? Well, it was different this time. There was a nice girl in it. Her name was Peyton. She asked if she could be our friend. Can she, Leo?"_

"Leo," Jason suddenly said, snapping the son of Hephaestus out of his thoughts. "Piper and I are going to head back now. Are you coming?"

"Yeah," he said, blinking. "Let's go."

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**Special thanks to sonofthetrigod for beta'ing this! Sorry it's short, but it just popped into my head today :3 Tell me what you think of it, yeah?**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi again! This is another short oneshot that will serve as an intermission between my fics. Childhood Friend will be updated in a few days, it's just taking longer than I thought because I keep adding so much to it. We're getting dramatic~~! Ooh, I'm so excited to confuse you all~!**

**This chapter is about Peyton right after she dies, so enjoy!**

**NiX Readaholic17: I am about to shatter your heart, and I'm sorry. I love your reviews, though! You always make me laugh :3**

**Side note: don't keep asking me about why only some people remember Peyton. Well, you can, but I won't tell you. *evil grin* It's all part of the plot of my diabolical mind. Muahahahahahahahaha!**

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**Quisquis narro ut μετά από να πεθάνουμε nos adepto a διάλειμμα; {{Whoever said that after we die we get a break?}}**

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All things that live must die.

How many times had Peyton heard that before in her lifetime? How many professors and counselors had lectured her on the subject?

Understanding death and accepting it were two completely different things.

When she had met Percy, something in her automatically compelled her to be okay with it. When she feared the end, a little voice whispered in her ear: Would it be so bad? Now, though, she wasn't sure if she was dead. The last thing she remembered was getting speared through the stomach by—

Betrayal and unbridled fury mounted inside of her as she remembered the bright blue eyes filled with horror. They hadn't meant to kill her.

They were aiming for Percy.

_"Traitor!"_ The word left her mouth in a horrible shriek filled with hatred before she could stop it. That one word seemed to bring everything to life, and suddenly the blackness faded from her vision and was replaced by a cell. It wasn't big at all—maybe five feet wide, six feet tall. She was curled up on her side on the rough, cold gray stone, sharp pains going throughout her body. She tried to move but all she managed was a small twitch of her fingers.

Come on, Peyton! she mentally coaxed herself. You've been through worse, right? Get up already!

Moving painstakingly slow, she managed to roll over onto her stomach and prop herself up onto her forearms, her legs still curled to the side. Even by that small task, her lungs felt sore and she had trouble breathing, like she had just run a marathon. As she tried to control her breathing, she could hear music playing from somewhere. Three of her walls were made of sturdy stone, so she turned her attention to the left where metal bars were securely keeping her in. Behind the space of the bars was a narrow hallway that was made out of the same stone as her prison before it lead off into steep stairs. Torches lit the way.

Crawling over, she grabbed one of the bars, and was shocked to find it freezing, but didn't let go. She looked at the space between the bars, finding it square, tilting her head ever-so-slightly and figuring her hand would just barely fit through. Turning her attention away from the prison bars, she listened to the music again.

It sounded like . . . Was it?

Listening more carefully, she heard the sounds of muffled laughter, shouts of joy, and happy music.

_A party._

"Hey!" she screamed, banging as hard as she could on the metal bars. Black spots danced in front of her vision with the effort. "Let me out! What's going on?!"

But no one came to answer her cries.

Panting, she crawled over to the side and leaned her back against the cold stone, sweat beaded on her forehead. Taking a deep breath, she lifted up her shirt to the top of her ribs so she could get a better look at whatever was causing her so much pain, and almost fainted on the spot.

Right where she gotten speared was a hole that went straight through her. Dried blood was crusted around it, some even trailed down into past her shorts. That's when she noticed she was still wearing the same outfit she had on when she died . . .

Pulling her shirt back down, the girl pressed her hands tightly over her mouth to keep from throwing up as a few unbidden tears leaked out of her eyes.

This didn't seem like the Underworld Percy had described. So where was she?

She thought the same thing for five days.

It was impossible to tell how much time had gone by, of course, but it was roughly five days. Her sleeping habits stayed the same, so it must have been.

One of the things she learned while in her cell was that she didn't need food or water at all. At least she didn't have to deal with hunger pains or the lightheartedness that came with not eating.

She still didn't know her location, but most of the time she could hear happy music float from down the stairs.

_Why?_ she thought, curled into a protective ball with her arms wrapped around her shins and her knees tucked up to her chest. _What did I do wrong? Am I even in the Underworld? What's going on?_

The sixth day was when it happened.

Bored as usual for some reason unwilling to move because she was unable to shake the ominous feeling heavily enveloping her like a blanket, she started counting as high as she could go.

"Four-hundred eighty-eight, four-hundred and eighty-nine, five-hundred." Her voice echoed off the walls. making her feel like she wasn't alone as she kept counting. Dimly somewhere in the back of her mind she registered that there was no music playing today. What a shame. It was always so beautiful. "Five-hundred and one, five-hundred and two, five-hundred and three, five-hundred and four, five-hundred and five, five-hundred and—"

"I don't want to get her!" The voice bounced off of the stone walls and into her cell, carrying a harsh lit.

It was male, she concluded, and he wasn't very happy about something. Turning her head to look through the bars, she waited for him—or them—to come down, eyes unblinking.

"That's unfortunate," a stern female voice said sarcastically, "because you volunteered to do this with my help. Was it just because you were in front of Aphrodite?"

"No," the male denied quickly. "I just wasn't really thinking at the time."

He ignored how the female snorted at his comment.

"But . . . do you remember what she has done to me?" he asked in a softer tone, filled with . . . fear? Anger?

"What she has done to you?" the female asked softly, her voice gently floating down to where the hooded girl was seated.

For some reason, the male seemed to think he had made a mistake, and quickly tried to backtrack. "Wow, Athena, I didn't mean to—"

"Shut up," she snarled, her voice carrying an angry tone. "Stop dawdling. Let's get this over with."

The sound of two pairs of footsteps echoed off the walls, but Peyton thought the stairs must be really tall, because she didn't see them for a good thirty seconds.

The female was leading the way, and she looked about twenty five years old. She wore a spotless white toga that swished around her ankles and had two slits on either outside part of her legs that went to mid-thigh. Brown Greek sandals with straps that went just past her ankles protected her feet from the floor. Silver battle armor that gleamed wickedly was on her chest, metal braces on her arms, and a Greek battle helmet on her head. A sword was sheathed on a belt at her hip. Her blonde hair rolled down her back in loose curls, her gray eyes set in determination.

The male followed after her, head held high in pride and his red eyes narrowed in challenge. He appeared to be a year or so younger than the blonde girl, and was also wearing a toga, only his was blood red and went just above his knees, his sandals were black, as was his armor, and daggers were strapped to his sides, but a sword was on his back.

"Hello, Peyton," Athena greeted with a cold smile. "How are you today?"

"Athena," Peyton said, her voice betraying her hate and anger and coming out lightly, as if greeting a voice was slightly hoarse from lack of use. "Why, how are you today? Oh, hello Ares."

The tone of her voice made the god and goddess tense.

"We have come to retrieve you," Athena said firmly, looking tensed and ready for battle.

Standing up with effort, her stiff muscles protesting with every action, she took an awkward step towards the bars and almost fell flat on her face, but managed to stay upright. "Why am I here?"

Ignoring her, Athena took out a brass key and unlocked the bars, swinging it open. "All your questions will be answered later. Now follow Ares and walk up the stairs. Keep your looking straight ahead at all times." With that, the goddess clamped metal cuffs onto her hands, making them a little too tight so that it bit into her skin. "Now move."

Swallowing thickly, the girl did as instructed and followed the god who had one hand on a dagger the whole time, mouth clamped shut and eyes firmly ahead. The stairs were murder on her shaking legs, but every time she slowed down, Athena would poke her harshly in the back with the hilt of her sword to keep her moving.

When they reached the end of the very long stairs, Ares opened a thick metal door (after unlocking a ridiculous amount of locks) and her eyes were assaulted with bright sunlight. She blinked rapidly to get control of her vision and—not following her previous instructions—looked around. Her jaw dropped a bit in shock and dread filled her.

_They were on Olympus._

"Eyes ahead," Athena hissed in warning from behind her.

Gulping, she turned her eyes back to Ares and marched on, feeling like she was being taken to her execution.

Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot.

"We're here," Athena suddenly said after a minute or so of walking. She walked from behind Peyton and pushed giant golden doors open.

This didn't seem good.

Walking ahead of them, she walked into the throne room where all ten of the twelve Olympians were seated. No, that wasn't right. There were twelve Olympians seated. Hades had a throne next to his brother's wife, Hera, and Hestia was sitting in one as well.

Athena walked to her own throne, growing steadily in size with each step she took, until she was twenty feet tall when she sat in her throne. Ares left the demigod in the middle of the floor before walking to his own.

"Peyton Shahar," Zeus sneered in disdain, making her look up at him. He was gripping his lightning bolt tightly as if he wanted to vaporize her with it and Hera had a hand on his arm and was watching her with cold eyes. "You are brought before the gods to decide your fate."

"I thought people go to the Underworld to do that?" she asked in confusion before she could stop herself.

"_Normally_, they do," Hades drawled from his throne, also eyeing her in distaste. "But you are a . . . _special case_."

Peyton shifted uneasily with all of the eyes on her. Taking a quick glance around the room, she saw that all were eyeing her coldly except for Hestia, Aphrodite, and Persephone. Her heart broke when she saw how Poseidon was gripping his trident as if preparing for an attack from her.

"How?" she managed to say, her voice calm and steady—not betraying her inner termoil.

"Foolish girl," Zeus sneered, "you already know. Now, the question is _what_ to do with her," he continued, talking like she wasn't in the room.

"Make another prison," Ares suggested.

"Oh, _yes_," Hades drawled sarcastically. "Because that worked out so well the last time."

"He's got a point, you know," Hephaestus interjected, agreeing with the god of the dead.

"Why not just let her live but erase her memories again?" Aphrodite suggested,

"And why would we do that?" Hades scoffed.

"Oh, I don't know," Aphrodite said sarcastically, "she is going to fall in love with _your_ son."

"What?" Zeus said, looking furious.

Aphrodite looked smug. "There's no stopping it. The Fates _themselves_ have already prophesied it. Even if you were to lock her away they would find a way to fall in love."

"Why wasn't I notified of this?" the king of the gods bit out between clenched teeth.

The goddess of love blinked with faux innocence. "Silly things such as love between demigods should not bother you."

Zeus pointed his hand at Peyton in a jerky motion. "_She_ is no demigod."

All the gods gave Zeus sour looks.

"Why not throw her there?" Athena suggested.

The god's and goddesses' eyes widened in disbelief.

"Surely not!" Hestia said firmly. "Even if it is her, no being deserves that place other than Kronos. Right, brother?"

But Zeus wasn't listening. "Hm . . . Alright. The choices will be to let her stay, or go there. All in favor of her staying?"

Hestia, Persephone, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, and Hermes all raised their hands.

Peyton felt her throat tighten and tears sting her eyes as Poseidon didn't even vote for her to stay.

"And to go there?" Zeus asked.

The rest of the gods raised their hands.

"It is decided," Zeus boomed. "Peyton Shahar, you are sentenced to Tartarus."

"No!" she screamed, her voice suddenly working again as black chains came through the floor and snaked around her, pinning her arms to her sides. "No! Father, help me! Poseidon! Father, help!" She wriggled uselessly, trying to get out of the restraints. "Why?! What did I do?!" When no one answered her, she looked back at Poseidon. The goddesses who had voted for her to stay were crying. "Father, please! Help me!"

Poseidon turned his cold sea green eyes to her. "You are no daughter of mine."

Then blackness claimed her.

* * *

**Thanks so much to sonofthetrigod! You are officially my beta! **

**Penny for your thoughts? I want to know what you guys thought in this chapter. Oh, and it will get super confusing from now on, but everything will sort of click together at the end. I have this all planned out! . . . . Even though my plans constantly change as well.**

**REVIEWS ARE INSPIRATION~!**


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